


Cold Up There

by shortstackedcheesecake96



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, Snowed In, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:59:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 67,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortstackedcheesecake96/pseuds/shortstackedcheesecake96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric thought he was content living alone in the mountains of South Park. Until a trip into town introduces him to Kyle, who has moved from New Jersey to Colorado for a fresh start, like Eric did so many years ago. But there's a storm brewing that will force them closer together than they ever imagined. Multi-chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Completely Unprecedented

". _.. But lately with temperatures being colder this time of year than we're used to, this warm air rapidly moving into parts of Park County could lead to a massive snow shower, or even a storm. This means constant, heavy snow that could last until Christmas time. But one thing's for certain, it'll be a very wintry Thanksgiving this year, Louise and David."_

" _Thank you, Rick_ , _we'll be expecting a blizzard! In other news…"_

Eric slurped at his coffee by the sink as he listened to the crackly weather report being broadcast from the small, ancient TV in his living room. It only confirmed what the faceless rangers had told him the previous evening, and what the stirring, morning flurry outside his window was foreshadowing.

The weatherman had said the rapid warm air would bring the snow storm into Park County and thus decorate the streets with festive snowflakes, and attack Eric's secluded mountain cabin with particular vigour. The struggling TV petered off into silence as Eric stared out the window, from the kitchen the distant town was invisible, shielded by conifers. Snow was an inconvenience to some, an expectation for others, but to Eric the snow was a challenge to his way of life. It was an opponent more sinister and relentless (and often more ferocious) than the black bear or mountain lion who once ruled these mountains before Eric came along.

Hunting season was nearly over (for the larger game anyway), which meant Eric had to make the most of the admittedly brave deer who stalked the icy, barren woods until he was prohibited to do so. Up here, hunting wasn't just a hobby or a way to pass the time. His very survival depended on it. Although he did have the occasional head mounted on the wall, most of his kill ended up on his plate. He never grew tired of the meat, he couldn't afford to. He had become integrated into the food chain now, even if the animals weren't entirely aware of this strange new predator.

His neighbours usually perished in the winter, or remained comatose until spring. Eric wasn't weak like them, cowardly like them. He wouldn't admit defeat or hide. Winter may have been cruel, but Eric was cunning. His basic cabin was equipped with a fridge – that thrummed under the strain of a loyal generator – and a pantry that had been difficult to assimilate into the old building, but was essential during the colder months. It was hardly empty, but the impending storm and his inability to see the town through the trees unnerved Eric. He liked the solitude but he wasn't exactly ecstatic at the thought of being _trapped_ here _…_ helpless, starving.

It had been a while since he restocked the fridge and pantry, and he couldn't take chances in an environment like this. If the worst should happen to him it was his responsibility, and in his final, weak moments, he didn't want to have to acknowledge that winter had claimed him because he was too stubborn and obstinate to not go to the store when he had the chance. Before the harsh weather conditions severed any connection to the town below. One winter he had tried to drive into town, the first winter probably. He had attempted to start the frozen pick-up truck for an hour before its frosty body eventually hiccupped back to life. But then he had to find the road that had been smothered by snow, the very snow that was trying to claim his car too. Eric had leapt out of the driver's seat, kicked the truck and yelled in frustration, before leaving it there and trudging back to the cabin as the overcast sky pelted snowflakes that threatened to slice through his eyes.

It was an experience he didn't want to relive. He sighed, dropped his coffee mug in the sink and threw on his jacket. The truck keys jingled in his pocket, and before he headed out the front door he patted the opposite pocket and felt his wallet there.

It felt strange leaving the cabin without his rifle, but he was sure that the presence of one of his guns would only alarm the customers. Yes, he was going to make a rare – and loathed – visit to the store.

* * *

Navigating the roads that twisted around the mountain wasn't something that Eric found difficult. The hardest thing was seeing South Park come into view, bobbing above his windshield, above the murky waters of his subconscious. He had never lived in the town proper, but it still reminded him of everything he resented and avoided. Namely, the company of others. People who could hurt you, and judge you, and leave you. As he entered the main street and the sparse, small town traffic he gripped his steering wheel a little tighter, frustration masking dread. He made a turn, and the supermarket and its parking lot were in sight. It was typically empty for a week day morning and he quickly found a space.

Getting out of the truck, he tucked his hands into his pockets, finding some comfort in the thick, woollen lining. The bite of winter was softer down here, more forgiving. As Eric grabbed a free shopping cart he knew the air was the only thing that was going to be forgiving when he entered the store.

The sliding doors chimed, welcoming a new customer. An elderly couple noticed him and fixed their gazes for far too long on him. He didn't respond, but the woman clung a little tighter to her husband's arm and he hurried her along. Eric rolled his eyes when they weren't looking. His large hands gripped the handle of the shopping cart harder than the steering wheel.

He didn't linger, pushing the cart along. The sooner he could get home, the better. He silently went about his shopping, locating the items he needed and grabbing the first thing he saw. He didn't care about brand, or quality, or price. It was all the same, right? And Eric liked consistency, dependability; he didn't care about the finer details.

Still, as innocuous as he tried to be, he attracted the attention of some other shoppers. People who had only heard of him (the mountain man, the loner, the recluse, the weirdo who lives all alone up there), and were now seeing him for the first time. And they would tell their family and friends that they saw him too.

_Yes, in the supermarket! Buying bread, and potato chips, and milk! Tons of it in fact! Where do you think he keeps all that food, huh?_

Eric felt a little satisfaction that they would never know the answers to their stupid questions. But he was sure that some people there _had_ seen him before, on his last visit however many months ago it was. They just liked to stare, liked to speculate, liked to imagine that Eric was more urban legend than man and that justified their gawking. It was easier for them to pretend that Eric's life wasn't as boring as theirs. When it was, it really was.

If Eric did one day decide to open his mouth, to speak, then he would tell them that. He would tell them that he wasn't so different. He didn't talk differently, and he certainly didn't look differently. Despite his rather impressive height and intimidating build, he looked like a guy you would talk to about the football game at a bar, or go on a first date with to the movies. His uniform of shearling jacket, jeans stained with paint and smattered with sawdust (occasionally animal blood but that washes off easily), and a faded plaid shirt, was one he shared with most guys in this town.

It was his way of thinking that made him different, the way he chose to live. His anonymity from the day he set foot in this town, the mystery surrounding him, was what made him peculiar. But he wasn't born that way. He wasn't born with a desire to escape to the mountains and be alone. He didn't like to remember who he was then, however, saw no point in dwelling. But long ago, far away from South Park, the mountains, and his beloved cabin, he could've been just like everybody else.

After picking up a few tins of coffee (and some hot chocolate on a whim), he headed to the checkout. All the cashiers looked familiar; he had hazy recollections of being pissed off at each one of them at some point, their rude insistence on staring at him as he tried to pay for his groceries. He suppressed the urge to grumble, scanning each checkout until he saw a face he didn't recognise. Somebody new, somebody hopeful. One less person to gawk at him or be mildly scared of him, perhaps? Exhaling bravely he pushed his shopping cart over to the new cashier.

When Eric arrived at the checkout, the new cashier was serving another customer. But while the new guy chatted and scanned the lady's groceries, Eric began emptying his cart and studying this man. He had striking red hair, the first thing Eric noticed. It fell in soft curls, and some skimmed his forehead. He was pale, and his forearms were dotted with freckles, reminders of bold days spent in the sun. He smiled with his teeth a lot, chuckled, and Eric watched his Adam's apple bob in his firm, slender throat. He seemed cute, polite… certainly friendly, it appeared the lady he was serving and the baby in the booster seat of her shopping cart were charmed by him.

"Thank you for shopping with us, ma'am," he said, as she wheeled her shopping cart away. "Have a good day!"

Eric was still unloading his huge amount of groceries onto the cash register.

"Hi!"

The chipper voice startled Eric, and he nearly dropped a bag of flour on his feet. When he looked up, he saw that the cashier was smiling expectantly at him. Red-faced and agitated, Eric offered him a quiet, disobliging grunt in response. The cashier raised his eyebrows, before shrugging flippantly, unaffected as he began to scan Eric's items.

Eric was growing increasingly annoyed by the cashier's surprising attitude. He was used to people acting a certain way around him and this guy had completely discarded all of that. Grimacing to himself, Eric reluctantly stepped closer to the cashier so he could start bagging his groceries.

"So I guess you heard about the storm on the news, huh?"

Eric responded to the question the same way an animal responded to staring down the barrel of his rifle – except maybe a tad more affronted. He looked up at the cashier and saw that expectant look again. He tried not to grit his teeth, but he could feel his fingers aching to make a fist.

"What?" He asked.

"The storm?" The cashier continued. "They say it's going to be the worst one in, like, twenty years. You've got a lot of stuff here, I thought you were maybe stocking up just in case the reports are true, and we're all stuck in our houses until Boxing Day."

Eric didn't know what to say… how long since he had a conversation about the weather with someone who wasn't a ranger? The cashier's eyes darted from the customer looming over him to the crowded cash register.

"Smart move, though," he added. "You're the only customer I've served today who's taking that kind of precaution."

Again, Eric didn't know how to respond. But he absorbed the veiled compliment, and observed the cashier fidget nervously in the silence he hadn't been trained to deal with, and smiled to himself. He spotted the cashier's name tag and saw that it read 'Kyle'.

Kyle must have admitted defeat, for the rest of Eric's shopping was scanned in silence. He smiled at Eric when he bagged the last item.

"Alright, that's…" Kyle paused, snickering sheepishly at the numbers on the screen and scratching the nape of his neck. "205 dollars and fifty cents, sir."

Eric reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet, opening it up and pulling out a huge wad of cash. Kyle's eyes widened even further, his sour green irises shrinking as he wordlessly took the money from Eric. The notes were bound together, but Kyle still attempted to count it all out, muttering under his breath as he did.

"D-d-do you want change?" He asked when he had finished.

"Keep it," Eric replied brusquely, trying to fit all the shopping bags in his cart.

"Really?" Kyle acquiesced. "Okay…"

Eric had already taken his cart and walked away when he heard Kyle shout, "Thank you for shopping with us, sir!"

As he walked to his car, put the shopping in the back seat of the truck, and drove home, he couldn't get Kyle out of his head, his thoughts stewing in curiosity and indignation. Nobody had tried to engage with him in conversation like that for years. He had spent decades assuming invisibility, projecting it from his stand-offish demeanour, that it was possible he had started to believe the impossibility he craved. But one talkative cashier had dismantled that façade; one stranger had dragged him back into reality. A reality where he was noticed and visible.

The rangers only told him necessary information in their daily phone calls; Eric didn't even know their names. The conversation he had with those he sold his hides and preserves to at county fairs never progressed beyond purchasing. Compared to Kyle, Eric's customer service in those situations was appalling.

But it wasn't just Kyle's geniality that his brain was content with playing on repeat. His inviting, fearless smile was seared into his mind like that of a movie star's, the absence of doubt he exhibited and his stubborn pursuit to converse with Eric when most wouldn't have was both astonishing and vexing – such a paradoxical reaction to another person was difficult for Eric to rid from his thoughts, to forget about completely.

Still, he needed to continue his routine as normal; preparing for winter was more important than getting hung up on some cute redhead who he was never going to see again (he had shaken his head when disappointment welled up in his chest at such a notion, grabbing his rifle and heading out of the cabin).

But not even acquiring a mountain ram and a mule deer whose antlers he would put on the wall (the rest he would have for dinner), couldn't make him dismiss chatty, persistent, defiant Kyle.


	2. Too Close For Comfort

Eric had returned to the store the next day, despite the fridge and pantry now being fully stocked. But as he had gone about his day, there was one need that still begged to be sated, no matter how much Eric tried to quiet it. It was foggy and visceral, overwhelmingly so. It was as if this faceless urge had clawed into his mind and dragged itself from Eric's heart that he thought he had buried in deeper snow than that of the impending storm.

He had wanted to see Kyle again, even if Eric knew they wouldn't be able to make sparkling conversation at the cash register. He had just wanted to listen to Kyle ask him questions, he wanted to barely respond, he wanted to watch Kyle persevere. So straight after breakfast the following day he had hopped into his pick-up truck and drove into South Park, wondering what items he could possibly need. He had settled on toothpaste and shampoo, though he had some spare in the cabin.

He had found Kyle immediately, although he was manning a different cash register than the day before. Once you spotted such vibrant hair, Eric guessed, it was hard not to notice it. He had approached Kyle with his typical stern expression, and when Kyle saw him his surprise quickly thawed into amusement; it gleamed in his eyes so tenderly, so unexpectedly that Eric was in danger of being thawed out. But perhaps that process had started during their first encounter?

With a wry smile on his face, Kyle had asked how Eric could've possibly forgotten something. Unfamiliar with banter, Eric couldn't help but be slightly offended, and his sensitivity over what he later realised was an innocent, playful question only fuelled his embarrassment. When he had placed his shopping on the cash register he had kept his head bowed, wanting to disguise his flushed face.

Three days later and Eric realised how foolish he was to think his impromptu second trip was just a one-off occurrence, or that this need hadn't burrowed into his bones and was in danger of eroding his sanity. A need that was once foggy was now piercing, what was once invisible had now had stolen Kyle's likeness, projecting his face whenever the cravings gnawed at him.

It didn't feel romantic, nor did it feel platonic. But perhaps Eric wasn't qualified enough to distinguish and properly identify either. It had been so long, after all… he had mastered detachment years ago, had thought he was now immune to the temptations of a charming personality and a supposedly trustworthy smile. He had underestimated himself and Kyle, it seemed.

He thought Kyle would've been scared by now. He thought Kyle's politeness would be tinged with inescapable wariness, if Kyle could bring himself to interact with Eric at all. He thought that by now Kyle would've refused to serve him, to be in the same room as him. By the fourth visit Eric thought he would be greeting the store manager at the sliding doors who would've then quickly told him to not bother coming in. To his confusion, that didn't happen. Just like his promises to not go to the store again, his expectation had fallen through.

But perhaps he had set himself up to fail? Since Kyle was always genial, always initiating conversations, and always delighted when Eric curtly responded. His smile gave him away every time, and Eric was glad. His knack for reading people had sufficiently dulled over the years. But he still returned Kyle's smile whenever he was able to, however weakly.

It was his fifth visit to the store now, and he had roamed the isles for a good half an hour, desperate to buy something. He finally settled on a cheap cutlery set (although he already had a perfectly fine set of cutlery fit for one person) and sink unblocker. More practical. As he made his way over to the cash register, his brief panic that he would have to leave the store empty-handed without seeing Kyle had now plummeted into bitter disappointment.

He had nothing left to buy. He was too proud to not pretend that he was here for a reason other than to barely have a conversation with a new cashier. He had no choice but to make this visit worth his while, but how? When he saw Kyle smiling at him already, he was determined to find a way. Even if that meant compromise.

* * *

"Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?" Kyle asked, scanning the cutlery set.

Eric blinked. He hadn't celebrated Thanksgiving in years.

"No," he replied.

Kyle's eyes met Eric's, and they shone with a pity that he wanted to extinguish. Why was considering a holiday to be like any other day such a horrible crime?

"You're not visiting family or anything?"

And what was the point when you had no one to celebrate it with?

"No, I'm staying home," Eric replied a little more courteously, hoping it would make Kyle quit his pressing of the issue.

It seemed to work, for Kyle nodded and picked up the sink unblocker. But Eric was watching him, and like his smile, Kyle's eyes gave everything away. He was smiling thoughtfully, and his irises were verdant partitions sealing outsiders off from the busy, whirring cogs in his mind.

"And where is home to you, Eric?" Kyle finally asked with a now curious smirk.

Eric furrowed his eyebrows, they hadn't discussed the cabin yet.

"I have a cabin up on the mountain," he said.

"Oh, wow, really?" Kyle replied, voice bubbling enthusiastically and he leaned slightly forward over the cash register. "I bet it's beautiful!"

"It's practical."

Kyle's previous enthusiasm simmered and he nodded, as if resigning himself to the fact that Eric couldn't so easily excited. "Oh… I see… uh, so what do you up there?"

"Nothing much," Eric mumbled.

"Do you hunt?" Kyle asked, remembering the sink unblocker in his hand and scanning it.

Eric nodded, he thought he would be more unnerved by Kyle asking him rather personal questions. Everything before then had been fairly trivial, not like Eric contributed much to the discussion.

"You know, I've never been hunting before," Kyle stated.

Eric fixed his gaze on Kyle, the first time he had initiated eye contact. The sudden importance of his absent-minded declaration obviously perturbed Kyle, for he now regarded Eric with a dent in his brow. Maybe he _was_ a little scared of him…

"You haven't?" Eric asked.

Kyle shook his head matter-of-factly before joking, "There wasn't a lot of big game in Newark."

Eric allowed himself to smile at that, but didn't laugh. It was strange, he could somehow feel his brain storing away that little piece of information about Kyle's background, his life.

_He's from New Jersey. How did he end up here?_

Eric left those questions unasked and unanswered, for now or possibly forever. He ignored the disappointment tugging in his chest as he bagged his shopping in silence.

"Alright, that's twenty dollars," Kyle said.

Eric handed over the money, and Kyle accepted it with a smile. And suddenly it was five days ago, and Eric was spotting Kyle for the first time all over again, being surprised by his boldness, and he couldn't let this be the last time. For whatever reason he could figure out later, but this couldn't be the last time-

"Come hunting with me,"

"Excuse me?"

Eric gulped, suddenly sweltering in November.

"Um, I could take you hunting?" he said, wincing at his previous abruptness. "If you want?"

Kyle blinked, and Eric saw his Adam's apple rise and fall in his throat, Kyle's own gaze preoccupied with considering Eric's offer.

"Oh, uh, Eric, thanks but I'm not sure it's my thing," Kyle replied, looking at Eric as he did but it didn't make the rejection sting any less. "I don't want to hurt any animals."

Eric just nodded quickly, thankful that only his throat felt clogged with nauseating rejection. But he still burned with stupidity and he grabbed his cart and walked away, the superficial disappointment numbing a deeper dread.

"But!"

Eric spun around swiftly at the sound of Kyle's voice.

"But maybe you could… I don't know… teach me a few things?" Kyle shrugged, a smile flickering on his face. Eric didn't care if was laced with even the slightest pity. "About firing a gun? I've never done that before."

Eric nodded and bit back a smile, he wouldn't let the heady adrenaline rush of anxiety and anticipation floor him in the supermarket.

* * *

The following day Eric found himself at the store again. This time he wasn't wandering the aisles trying to find a justifiable purchase, he was stood by the sliding doors with his hands in his pockets, waiting for Kyle so he could take him to the cabin and teach him how to shoot.

Faint, stale pop songs on the supermarket radio and the mild chatter of customers weren't enough to deafen the incessant, wary babbling in his head. He had told himself he was sure about this, he had told himself he wanted to do this, he had even told himself this would be easy. And arranging to pick Kyle up from the store, and then going home and crafting a makeshift shooting range from tree stumps and empty cans and bottles was simple enough. But it soon dawned on him that this was the longest he would ever spend with Kyle, the longest he had spent with _anyone_ in a long time, in fact. And what if he grew bored of Kyle? Irritated by him? What if possibly striking a friendship with Kyle meant further compromise he wasn't really comfortable with?

Eric didn't have much time to consider the answer to those questions, as Kyle was approaching him, rid of his uniform and now wearing a pair of boots that had yet to be broke in, skinny jeans, a chocolate brown coat that drew out the uneven freckles that decorated the bridge of his nose, a striped scarf, and a sabre-like grin that could hack through all of Eric's doubts. Or at least Eric hoped. He belatedly smiled back, tight and a little uneasy but Kyle didn't seem too perturbed.

"Hey!" He beamed when he was close enough to Eric. "You ready?"

"Sure," Eric replied, struggling to maintain his already fragile smile.

"Then let's go!" Kyle said, leading them out of the store.

They walked to Eric's pick-up truck in silence, as if it were impossible to talk over the soft howl of the winter wind and traffic in the distance. It was only when they left South Park did the conversation happen, and naturally it was Kyle who spoke first.

"I gotta tell you, I'm really excited about this."

Eric glanced to the passenger side, and saw Kyle smiling genuinely back at him. "Why?" He asked.

"I only moved here a month ago, and I haven't seen much of the mountains," Kyle replied. Eric had returned his focus to the road, his windshield wipers were already fending off a small flurry. "And I'm sure your house is wonderful, really picturesque, like it should be on a holiday card or something."

Kyle chuckled then and Eric felt his eyes on him; bright, abundant green. He smiled at Kyle's joke and politely snickered, again belatedly but Kyle didn't seem to mind.

"I'm looking forward to my rifle lesson too," he added. "Do you go hunting a lot?"

Eric nodded, since the season opened he had been stalking the mountain every day. Very rarely did he return to the cabin empty-handed.

"Then I'm in good hands," Kyle replied, and although Eric was focused on the road, the warmth crackled in his voice and he imagined Kyle smiling.

They had begun their ascent up the mountain, and even if Eric was familiar with the roads he still drove conscientiously. He hoped Kyle didn't want to converse too much with him. But the cashier was busy peering out the window anyway, seeing his new home from a different perspective had quieted his usual chattiness.

"Woah, look at the view already!" He exclaimed. "It's amazing!"

Eric didn't respond, he didn't think Kyle would appreciate his commentary of South Park, growing tinier and tinier until it appeared to be nestled in the woollen, pregnant clouds.

"I know you said you lived on the mountain, but I didn't think it was this high up!" Kyle continued. "Will we be at your place soon?"

"… Yeah," Eric replied with a nod.

"I can't wait," Kyle grinned.

Eric had made a decent attempt of shovelling the snow away from the clearing that led to the cabin, but turning off the actual road and driving on less than tyre-friendly terrain still made for a bumpy ride. The pick- up truck trundled along unevenly as Eric drove through the clearing, belying the vehicle's true age. Eric pulled up as close as he could to the cabin and got out wordlessly with Kyle quick to follow him.

"Wow…" Kyle gasped, new boots crunching in the snow before he stood still to really admire the cabin. Wooden slats darkened by age and battles with the extreme weather, a tiny porch, and frosted windows all made up the sturdy, stout building. "You really live here all by yourself?"

"Yeah," Eric replied. He put his keys in his pocket and started to walk to the back of the house. Kyle trailed behind him without protest.

"Is that a greenhouse?" He asked, suddenly stopping to inspect the little glass shed where vegetables were doing their best to grow. "I didn't know you were into gardening."

"I try,"

"What vegetables do you grow?"

Eric shrugged. "What I can."

Kyle nodded, still trying to peer inside.

"Come on…" Eric said, not waiting for Kyle to reply before he continued to make his way to the back of the cabin.

When they did reach what Eric supposed was his backyard there were two bolt action rifles propped against the wall, and the makeshift range was waiting for them. Not a grand affair, just rows of cans and bottles lined up on a few random tree stumps.

"Well, this is pretty neat," Kyle commented.

"Choose a rifle," Eric replied. "I don't care which one."

Kyle blinked and timidly made his way over to the rather intimidating weaponry.

"Okay…" he murmured, he went to retrieve one but hesitated. "How do I hold it?"

Eric supposed he should've explained that earlier.

_Great, some teacher you are._

Stepping closer, Eric handed one of the rifles to Kyle, doing so carefully in the hopes it would encourage Kyle to be just as cautious.

"You need to put your trigger hand here," Eric explained, taking Kyle's hand and placing it just shy of the trigger. He could feel Kyle's pulse rattle, and made a note to be a bit gentler in his teaching. "Feel the nook? Align it with your thumb and index finger and grip it. Don't touch the trigger until you're ready to shoot."

Kyle followed Eric's instructions and the hunter nodded to himself, hurrying over to Kyle's other side.

"Grip the forestock with your support hand."

"Where?"

Eric took hold of Kyle's hand once again, large fingers wrapped around his wrist. He didn't guide Kyle's fingers to the cold metal this time, Kyle could do that.

"It's halfway down the rifle," Eric murmured.

Kyle clumsily slipped his hand out of Eric's hold and gripped the gun where Eric told him to. Suddenly confident, stubborn.

"Does that feel, uh, stable?" Eric asked.

Kyle nodded, his cinnamon brows were rigid and serious but his eyes still shone with doubt and inexperience.

"Good," Eric said, allowing himself a brief smile. "Now, just lift the rifle up and place the buttstock at the centre of your body, high up on your chest."

Kyle obeyed his instructions and Eric stepped back a little to survey his student. He remembered how he had felt when he had first held a gun; excited, giddy, like a part of him was changing already. Although maybe it was the encouraging words of his teacher that were the driving force behind such sparkling emotions, words that had been missing his whole life. The gun was the superficial emblem, the material, the possession that Eric could hold and use to do whatever he wanted; he couldn't say the same for who it represented, the person who had ironically introduced him to this whole new realm of control. With a gun in his hand he felt powerful, when that absent figure had always rendered him power _less_. But he couldn't separate the two. He had made that childish connection long ago. And whenever he polished his impressive collection of rifles he saw two faces staring back.

"Keep your head up. Put your cheek in the stock. Make sure it's not loose," Eric listed his instructions as swiftly and seamlessly as bullets leaving a machine gun.

Kyle nodded regardless, standing in a typical bladed-off stance. "This is okay, right?"

Eric glanced between Kyle and the range.

"Square your shoulders with the target," he replied. "Stand straight with your feet apart. Keep the position you've got now and your elbows down."

Kyle copied him carefully, keeping a firm grip on the rifle. "I feel like I'm crouching."

"It reduces the recoil when you stand like that," Eric explained. "And you can move easily, makes your aim better. See the little ring?"

Kyle nodded, concentrating, and Eric could tell he was eager to fire.

"You use that to aim," Eric added.

"Alright," Kyle replied, shifting his position only slightly to better his aim.

"Focus on your target. Soon the rear ring will blur until you can't see it anymore. Aim with the front sight. Before you fire, shift all your focus to the front sight."

"Got it," Kyle replied, before firing the rifle.

He jolted at the recoil and the bullet missed the cans Kyle was aiming for, too low, it hit the stump instead. Perfecting his stance and aim, Kyle tried again but he aimed too high, his bullet flying over his target. Eric was more entertained by Kyle's reaction, for a novice he was handling the gun fairly well although his aim was questionable, and it seemed to infuriate Kyle that he was not achieving perfection. Perhaps a prideful, competitive streak was something they shared? Kyle tried a third time, clipping a bottle and shattering it but that obviously wasn't enough. And he had used half his cartridges. Growling loudly, Kyle fired three bullets one after the other, all of them taking out the bottles in the exact same spot, each one exploding with a satisfactory smash.

Eric's eyes widened in shock at the impressive display and Kyle gasped. His shoulders sagged, the previous tension of holding a weapon for the first time fell away, and he grinned, laughing victoriously.

"Did you see that?!" He exclaimed.

Eric nodded, grinning too and crossing his arms.

"Three in a row!" Kyle continued gleefully, before sliding an arrogant, challenging look Eric's way. "I bet not even a seasoned marksman like you could pull that off, right?"

 _So he_ is _competitive…_

Eric smirked, eager to prove Kyle wrong and wipe that smug grin from his face. Grabbing his rifle, Eric got into the squared stance as easily as breathing before aiming for the cans placed on the trunk adjacent to Kyle's and effortlessly firing five bullets one by one. He didn't miss.

Kyle was still holding his rifle, and Eric was unable to see his face, but he could at least imagine Kyle's disappointed, humble expression and that was just as sweet.

"I really should've seen that coming," Kyle sighed, lowering his rifle.

"Do you want to keep going?" Eric asked, trying to subdue his self-satisfied grin.

"No, I think this was pretty sufficient. Thanks," Kyle said, smiling gratefully at Eric and trying to mask his defeat. "I'm a little cold though, can we go inside? I know you have plenty of coffee in there."

This development was unexpected. Of all the limited ways he envisioned this afternoon going, never did he assume Kyle would actually want to come inside. But Eric found himself nodding anyway, setting his and Kyle's rifles aside. There was no back door to the cabin, so they walked around to the front again with Kyle smirking sheepishly as he followed Eric. He was going to be his first ever visitor.

* * *

When they had entered the cabin, Kyle lingered in the narrow hallway for a while. He had glanced up the stairs, let his gaze roam the walls, and made a valiant attempt to not be too perturbed by the few heads mounted on the walls, in the hallway and in the living room. Eric was just as unnerved by Kyle's presence. If the cashier was expecting a grand tour, he was going to be very disappointed.

Eric had slipped into the kitchen and had quickly gone about making coffee for himself and Kyle, thankful that he had an extra chair at the table. Before he had honed his carpentry skills, he had to buy a cheap table and chairs in town. But it had been rather difficult to get an adequate sized table with only a single chair to accompany it. Almost as if solitude was an impossible, incomplete notion, something not to be expected of humans. Eric guessed he had defied that. But even when he could've made himself a perfectly decent table and chair he didn't. Because what he had bought was fine, and it was a waste to throw it away just so he could prove a point to himself.

After Kyle had thanked him for his coffee, they drank in silence.

"Do you always buy everything in bulk?" Kyle suddenly asked. He had obviously been contemplating a conversation starter. "Or is the storm an exception?"

"No," Eric replied, furrowing his eyebrows. "And, yeah, I guess."

Kyle sipped at his coffee, staring out the window that let the pale daylight in. "You've lived up here a while, right?"

Eric nodded, face partially concealed by his coffee mug.

"So I'm guessing you can gauge the weather fairly accurately?"

There was no way to gauge the weather in Colorado, so Eric shrugged.

"They say the storm is going to hit earlier than predicted…"

"The weather here can be temperamental."

Kyle just nodded, his eyes drawn to the wintry scene outside, beautiful and formidable.

"The snow is coming down pretty hard out there," he said with a faint chuckle.

Eric had dismissed the view, what was new and rare to Kyle was now trivial to him. But when he looked out the window, he couldn't help but linger, mildly startled at the ferocity of which the snow was falling and how it had accelerated from a flurry to a shower.

What Kyle had said mere minutes ago about the storm arriving early suddenly leapt to the forefront of Eric's mind and pushed a lump into his throat. He had no idea what to say in response, or how to even speak when his tongue felt dry and heavy and his throat too tight for words to pass through. But he had to think of something…

"I won't be able to get the truck out," he blurted.

They had plummeted deeper into silence, thicker and more obvious. Eric managed to meet Kyle's eyes and already saw alarm there.

"Wh-what do you mean?" he asked.

"It's stuck," Eric replied. What else could he say? "And they would've closed the pass."

Kyle shifted in his chair, gaze switching between Eric and the snowfall. "How do you know?"

Eric gestured nonchalantly to the window. "Look how deep the snow is."

There was a crease in Kyle's brow and Eric could feel those bitter green eyes boring holes in him. They pierced into Eric like the claws of a black bear, but Eric had had his share of nasty encounters with those creatures before and won. He had a feeling that if such an altercation occurred between him and Kyle he wouldn't be the victor.

"But you're just guessing," Kyle said, increasing irritation successfully masking fear in his voice.

"It's been stuck before,"

"Maybe it's fine…"

"I don't think so."

"Well, why don't you go check?!" Kyle asked through gritted teeth, punctuating his demand with the slamming of a coffee mug on the table. Eric blinked and when he looked up Kyle was flushed, his seething was melting into a flustered sigh. "S-s-sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you."

Eric didn't say anything, he just watched Kyle run a hand through his curls and look to his lap for answers. But Kyle met his eyes again and tried to plaster a smile on his face.

"Let's say it is stuck," he said. "Somebody will be able to come get me right? The rangers or… I could call somebody."

A futile endeavour Eric knew, but Kyle looked so shakily optimistic about the idea and Eric felt it rude to dash every one of his plans. Plus, he wasn't eager to be the recipient of another scathing glare.

"Shit, no reception," Kyle muttered, shoving his phone back in his pocket. "What the fuck was I expecting?" He asked, chuckling nervously. Closing his eyes, he then pressed a palm to his forehead, exhaling deeply.

Eric still sat there, witnessing Kyle's distress and feeling completely useless. Was he supposed to speak? Did Kyle want him to speak? How could he reassure Kyle when the truth of the situation wasn't something Kyle wanted to hear and Eric was secretly dreading?

"So I guess I'm staying here for the night," Kyle sighed, before suddenly remembering that an invitation hadn't been extended, no matter how moot the offer would've been. "That's not a problem, is it?"

Eric shrugged, "I don't have much choice."

Kyle stared at him reproachfully, as if reminding Eric how blunt his response sounded when Eric was well aware. "Yeah, well, it'll be fine by morning."

Again, Eric was helpless as to what to say. If Kyle was going to stay in the cabin for the night, the experience would be a lot more pleasant without Eric pissing Kyle off or frightening him. But lying to him even with good intentions was sure to backfire later as well. For once in his life, Eric had to be somewhat diplomatic.

"I'll call the rangers tomorrow," he resolved. "It's too late now, they won't be there. But you can sleep on the couch."

"Okay…" Kyle nodded, head slightly hung out of wariness and a possible remorse for being so short with Eric. He smiled weakly, "thanks…"

Eric just drank what was remaining in his mug, and he and Kyle both noticed the sudden howl of the wind outside, more menacing than a baying wolf.

"Do you have anything stronger than coffee?" Kyle asked.

* * *

A quiet evening had followed. More quiet than usual, or so it seemed, as Eric very rarely shared his silence. Kyle's fiery, inexorable, almost hypnotic personality that had lured Eric in curiously, had unceremoniously flickered out, extinguished as the snow had worsened outside. He had sat on Eric's aged couch, chewed his nails worriedly, and stared out the window, the two of them preferring to tend to their deep, stirring thoughts than vocalise them, or initiate any conversation.

When night had drawn on, Eric mumbled that he was going to bed. Kyle had muttered he should probably get some sleep too, which had been Eric's cue to find something that could brace Kyle during his slumber. He had gone to the cupboard to retrieve a pelt for Kyle, but realised that perhaps a blanket was more suited to his guest. Kyle had thanked him and wished him good night, the latter Eric had sheepishly returned before retiring to his bedroom.

But he hadn't fallen asleep quickly; uncomfortable with the situation he now found himself in, and worried that it would be exacerbated if the storm did indeed arrive sooner than expected; especially during the night and eerie early morning, when Eric wasn't looking.

When Eric woke up the next day, his fears proved true. Sliding out of bed from beneath his pelts he had opened the flimsy curtains and was greeted by asphyxiating white, it lounged on the poor trees, had practically buried the truck and smothered the town, and was persisting relentlessly, cackling in its haunting soprano. For the first time, Eric was terrified of and intimidated by winter. But he was then reminded that Kyle was still downstairs, and that was equally as nerve-wracking.

Gulping, Eric rolled his shoulders back in preparation for leaving his bedroom and facing Kyle. Changing his boxers, he then threw on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans and took a deep breath as he opened his bedroom door and began his descent downstairs.

Eric was slow and cautious, the creak of the stairs attempting to hurry him along. Through the open door of the living room he was able to notice Kyle standing by the window, blanket wrapped tightly around him as he peered outside at the disturbing view. Eric stopped although he had nearly reached the bottom of the stairs, pondering how to best approach the situation in front of him and hoping that Kyle was so immersed he wouldn't realise Eric was staring at him.

But no solutions came to him, and he was quickly caught. Kyle looked to the staircase and it was as if his panicked green eyes blinded Eric, causing him to jolt and reach for the wooden handrail.

"The storm hit…" Kyle commented thinly, pursing his lips before returning his shining, distressed gaze to the window.

Eric sighed to himself, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs and entering the living room.

"Fuck, what am I going to do?!" Kyle fretted. "I can't call anybody, I don't know anybody here, the roads are closed…" His wild gaze snapped to Eric then, and Kyle closed in on him. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?!"

"I don't know!" Eric exclaimed. His outburst and height made Kyle shrink back. "Calm down!"

"Calm down?!" Kyle retorted, indignant and flickering. "You want me to fucking stay calm?! We're snowed in! How long will I have to stay here?!"

"Until the storm stops!"

"When will that be?!"

Eric rolled his eyes and threw his arms up in the air, exasperated. "Jesus Christ, I don't know everything!"

Kyle huffed derisively and crossed his arms. "Clearly…" he muttered.

No apologies like the day before, it seemed that patience was wearing thin for the both of them.

"So, what, I'm just supposed to stay here?" Kyle snapped.

Eric pursed his lips to stop himself reminding Kyle that this wasn't exactly an ideal situation for him either. He was alone for a reason, after all. So he didn't have to deal with people like Kyle. Eric realised this must've been unsettling for him, but did he have to act like such a pissy little ingrate?

"I'll call the rangers," he offered, "see if they're around."

"Thank you," Kyle muttered, setting himself down on the arm of the couch and pouting like a petulant teenager.

Honestly, Eric wasn't holding out that much hope, but if Kyle was staying with him for a while he would have to do something to lessen Kyle's attitude, plus the phone was in the kitchen which meant at least there was some distance between them.

Eric picked up the phone, but before he could dial the number he realised he hadn't exactly answered Kyle's question. "Yes…"

"Yes, what?"

"You'll have to stay here," Eric replied, he didn't look into the living room until after the words had left his mouth and he saw Kyle nodding, folding the blanket around himself as if to inspire more emotional comfort.

"Alright…" Kyle said to his lap, before he looked up at Eric. "We're going to be okay, aren't we?"

His question was drowned out by the sound of disconnection. The rangers weren't picking up.

"Sure," Eric lied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? This chapter is pretty eventful, and we're definitely going full steam ahead now. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!


	3. Ease Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eric and Kyle (unsuccessfully) go hunting in this chapter, and while nothing too gory happens it is slightly bloody. I understand some people may find that a little difficult to read so tread with caution. Other than that, hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

Three days into the storm and Eric was attempting to carry on his routine as normal, treating the powerful snowfall and Kyle's constant presence as if they were minor inconveniences. He continued to hunt (though the extreme weather made the animals few and far between, and Eric was practically wading in the thick powder), and it felt like business as usual until he returned home to see Kyle still on the couch, his dismayed expression swiftly morphing into that of uneasiness when he took in Eric's appearance; an animal carcass in his knapsack and dark blood staining his clothes.

But Eric would leave Kyle, mildly horrified and thoroughly grossed out, in the living room, as he tended to his latest kill in the tiny shed so they could have it for dinner later. Eating meat so organic and fresh (for lack of less appetising phrases) was something Kyle quickly got over. Eric wasn't surprised; in the conditions Kyle needed to get used to he couldn't afford to be picky.

And Kyle very rarely complained, quite the opposite. He was maddeningly quiet, adjusting to his temporary home with lacklustre inquiries about where certain things were kept in the cabin, and how to work the shower. The latter request was submitted on the second day. Thankfully the fierce, debilitating storm hadn't claimed the plumbing. But it appeared to have claimed Kyle's alluring personality that had crawled under Eric's skin over a week ago at the supermarket.

He resented how Kyle sat on the couch all day, frozen and withering, waiting for the storm to pass. In fact, the only time Kyle ever piped up was over breakfast when he asked if Eric had heard anything from the rangers. The answer was always 'no', they still weren't responding and Kyle still couldn't get any reception on his cell phone either. The mountains were under the tyrannical rule of the storm, shielding the town (and all the freedom it represented, to Kyle at least) that had never seemed so distant. All that was visible were the faint outlines of mountains and the evergreens the cabin was nestled in.

Another disappointing, silent breakfast. Kyle had trudged back to the living room, and Eric had rolled his eyes and ignored the increasing twinge in his heart at the despondent shell Kyle had become. After all, what was Eric supposed to do? Yes, he could _try_ to be a little more sympathetic, but he was a begrudging host not a babysitter. Why should he have to curb his routine that was ensuring both his and Kyle's survival, when Kyle was a grown man who could entertain himself? And besides, who said Kyle even wanted Eric to keep him company?

Eric grumbled under his breath and shook his head, pulling on a nondescript grey beanie (the last of his winter layers) and grabbing his rifle and his knapsack, heading for the front door. Despite hunting being difficult as of late, and despite having a sufficient amount of food in the pantry and fridge, Eric still felt the outing was necessary, partly to escape the uncomfortable situation inside the cabin.

"Are you going out?"

Turning around, Eric saw Kyle lingering by the doorway to the living room, and he furrowed his eyebrows at the question. Of course he was going out! But Kyle was still waiting for an answer, looking at him expectantly and even now Eric was irritated by it.

"Uh, yeah…" he replied, before he reached for the door again.

"Wait!"

Eric pursed his lips to conceal an exasperated sigh. He cast Kyle a questioning look.

Kyle scratched at his arm and studied the mounted heads on the wall absently before he asked, "Can I come with you?"

The crease in Eric's brow deepened.

"I thought you didn't like hunting," he replied.

Kyle rolled his eyes although Eric was just relaying the truth, and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't but… I need to go outside," Kyle explained. "Get some fresh air. It's driving me crazy, being indoors all day."

Eric had been hunting alone for twelve years. And he liked it that way, just like he did everything else that had become a solitary activity. But, unfortunately, he was no longer alone, for the time being at least. His comfortable way of life had been suspended and the rules had temporarily changed. What suited him had become redundant. He had Kyle to take into consideration now too. Of course he could reject Kyle's request, but what would that lead do? Returning to the cabin to find Kyle even more miserable?

"Fine. Get your coat," Eric replied, before he walked past Kyle and ascended the stairs. "It's freezing out there. I'll try to find you a hat, or gloves, or something…"

"Thanks…" he heard Kyle say, but he didn't sound too grateful… nor did he sound off-put.

In his bedroom Eric found an olive green ushanka hat that he had worn once and hated, and gloves that would obviously be large on Kyle but would have to do. Walking back down stairs, Eric noticed Kyle lacing his boots up at the bottom, his coat and scarf already on. The sound of the stairs creaking under Eric's weight alerted Kyle to his host's presence, and he glanced behind him at the hunter at the top of the stairs. Eric noted Kyle was looking slightly cheerier, and took it that his gamble of allowing Kyle to come hunting with him was paying off.

"Here," Eric said when he was close enough, dropping the hat and gloves into Kyle's lap.

Kyle got up off the stairs to let Eric pass, responding with a weak smile and clutching the borrowed clothes to his chest. Eric waited as Kyle put the hat on, and remained silent when Kyle slipped the gloves on and realised just how big they were, the fingers absurdly long.

"How do I look?" Kyle joked, putting his hands on his hips and his one foot on the bottom step, puffing his chest out.

Even though the ushanka hat was big and lopsided on Kyle's head, the style suited him, his boyish curls peeking out of it and complimenting his tight-lipped, mirthful smile. Add that to the ridiculous pose and the half-filled fingers of the gloves dangling farcically at his sides, and Kyle looked rather endearing, something Eric couldn't stay pissed off at. He let a smile leak onto his features but then quickly wiped it away.

Eric shrugged and raked his gaze over Kyle.

"Fine," he answered.

"Oh…" Kyle's smile simmered and his pose deflated, before he smirked and asked, "Like a hunter?"

"Not exactly," Eric said, opening the front door and letting the snow drift in.

Kyle blinked and looked warily outside, before he adjusted his hat and followed Eric out the door.

* * *

The quietness of the forest didn't trouble Eric. It was to be expected, especially at this time of year, and even in the warmer, more forgiving months the sounds of the mountain were more lilting and wispy than cacophonic. The rustles in the undergrowth, and the language of the creatures more diverse than any sprawling city, would echo and bounce from the tree trunks, evading human ears.

Now everything had been halted, frozen, sedated as the winter rolled in with the storm. Minimal rustling, minimal chattering, the birds still chirped overhead but unlike spring, where they sang and spoke of consummation, they now lamented and pleaded for shelter from the frigid cold. And although they were short on company, Eric still walked with his rifle poised at the ready, weaving through the forest with stealth and familiarity. He didn't stomp, or trudge, even in the thick snow he drifted through the forest phantasmally. Unlike Kyle, who was traipsing behind Eric with his shoulders hunched and arms crossed, bracing himself from the chill, the snow crunching irritably beneath his boots.

Eric rolled his eyes, invisibility was his biggest asset and he couldn't let Kyle jeopardise that.

"Be quiet!" He snapped over his shoulder.

Kyle lifted his eyebrows, puzzled, before he protested, "I didn't say anything!"

Eric tutted and rolled his eyes again. "Your feet! You need to walk a little lighter. You're probably scaring the animals away!"

He saw Kyle's eyes widen and heard him scoff incredulously before he turned around and continued their trek.

"Sure, and these fucking awful conditions have nothing to do with it!" Kyle retorted. "How do you expect any animals to be roaming around when nothing is growing? They have no food!"

"They find a way to eat," Eric replied, raking his gaze over the landscape he knew better than Kyle. "They adapt."

"Then why haven't you shot anything yet?"

Eric gritted his teeth and clutched his rifle a little tighter, but before he could remind Kyle that he had only been up here for three days and knew virtually nothing about the mountain, he spotted a doe mule deer in the distance, searching for food.

"Look!" Eric said in a hushed voice, pointing to the deer. "There's a doe over there!"

"What?"

Grabbing Kyle's arm before he could frighten the doe off, Eric dragged him to a nearby tree and ignored Kyle's surprised huff when he pulled him closer.

"We can't startle her…" Eric murmured, although Kyle's curls tickling his chin had startled _him_ somewhat.

He hadn't realised how intimately they were pressed against each other until then, and Kyle's steady heartbeat and temperature became way more apparent. It was everything Eric had discarded from his life but it didn't feel unpleasant, and certainly not scary.

"So what do we do?" Kyle asked.

"Take a look – slowly – and see if she's still there, if she's looking in our direction."

Kyle's heart rate picked up considerably, Eric felt it beneath their layers, as well as Kyle's fidgeting. Eric glanced at him, but Kyle had beaten him to it, already looking up at him with doubt in his eyes. Eric felt it residually, almost like sympathy. There was no time for a pep talk though (as if Eric would've had any idea what to say), so he just nodded impatiently. Shifting his body, Kyle glanced behind the tree and quickly returned.

"She's still there, but she just looked at me," he whispered.

"Alright, move," Eric replied, before he shoved Kyle out of the way.

He was a swift hunter, lifting the rifle to his chest, setting the doe in his sights and firing almost in one, fluid motion. The bullet left the gun with a loud, predatory growl and effortlessly pierced the doe's greyish flank. She staggered, already alerted to, and startled by, the humans' presence. She attempted to run, buckling under the excruciating weight of her injury. Eric, unscathed and determined, was quicker than the usually agile animal though and shot her again in the leg, blood exploding from her slender limb. She wailed at the fatal injury, large ears slicked back in horror as she stumbled hysterically, fruitlessly, before she collapsed in the snow.

Eric grinned triumphantly and looked to Kyle, expecting him to be as impressed as he had been at the makeshift shooting range, but instead the cashier had covered his face, feet planted in the snow. Eric lowered the rifle and frowned, disappointment wiping out any sense of victory.

"Come on," he muttered, walking the short distance to where the doe lay.

Kyle reluctantly followed him and when they reached the doe she had bled out already. Her wide, frightened eyes were dulling and the bullets embedded in her flesh had stained her hair and the snow beneath her crimson.

As always, Kyle was the first to speak.

"This… you don't…"

Eric had initially only slid his gaze to Kyle but turned to face him full on when he saw how the colour had drained from his face, how he was shaking at the sight of the dead deer (not shivering from the cold), his bewildered eyes trained on the corpse.

"You're done, aren't you?" He asked.

"What?"

"You don't want to keep going. This…" Kyle covered his mouth mid-sentence and averted his stare. "Can we go back now?"

"But we only just left," Eric argued.

Kyle exhaled shakily; he removed his hand from his mouth but still wouldn't look at Eric.

"I know but I want to go back," Kyle said, voice wobbly and strained. "Please?"

Eric bit back his own exasperated sigh, glancing between the woods that were waiting for him and a pleading Kyle. But when he caught sight of the fallen doe, torturously sad and unbearable for Kyle to even be around, the twinge Eric always felt in his heart when he saw Kyle deflated and wary returned, sharper than before and forcing him to heed to it. Sympathy, he reasoned. At least this time he could give Kyle the answer he wanted, he could do something to ease Kyle's discomfort and therefore extinguish that infuriating nagging at a heart that had once been so immune.

"Please, Eric, can we just go? I can't watch you kill anymore-"

"Fine, we'll go back," Eric interrupted, his voice softening when he said, "I just need to take care of this first, okay?"

Kyle glanced at the doe, grimacing, before responding to Eric with a nod. The hunter opened up his knapsack, and Kyle took it as his cue to turn around. As if watching Eric bundle the animal in a bag was more traumatic than watching him actually kill it.

"Let's go…" Eric then muttered, throwing the knapsack over his shoulder and walking past Kyle, expecting him to follow.

Neither spoke as they made their way back to the cabin.

* * *

"Thanks for letting me borrow these," Kyle said when they reached the house.

"Huh?" Eric asked, his indignant thoughts had shrouded him in an irritated haze, unsure of what Kyle was referring to.

Kyle arched an eyebrow.

"The gloves?" He replied, "The hat."

He tugged at one of the flaps.

It seemed that they had been preoccupied with very different things as they walked back to the cabin wordlessly. Kyle was concerned with making amends, while Eric was stewing in the unfair situation the storm had placed him in. It wasn't unusual in the short time they had known each other for Kyle to be the first to talk. But now he was the first to be the bigger person, it peeved Eric greatly. Pettiness was all he had ever known.

"Oh, yeah, whatever," Eric said, shaking his head and dismissing his previous confusion, and possible shame. He supposed he could attempt to reach Kyle's level. He managed a discreet smile. "You're welcome."

Kyle attempted to hide his own smile in the scarf wrapped around his neck, and coupled with the rosy tip of his nose Eric was reminded of Kyle posing on the stairs an hour ago. The memory was warm, washed up on the shores of Eric's mind on an unusual, gentle current… but it was also distracting, and Eric suddenly remembered the deer carcass in the knapsack, and the fact that he and Kyle were still stood outside, freezing for no apparent reason.

"I'm going to take care of this," Eric said, hitching the knapsack further up his shoulder. Kyle spared the bag a glance and nodded. Reaching into his coat pocket, Eric pulled out the keys to the cabin and threw them to Kyle. "Here, you can let yourself in."

Kyle caught the keys with one hand and unlocked the door. Eric pursed his lips and went to walk away.

"Eric, wait!"

When Eric turned around, the front door had been opened and yet Kyle was still stood on the porch, his hands tucked behind his back. For once, it was Eric waiting for Kyle to speak, and he tried to duplicate that expectant look of his. But perhaps only Kyle could pull it off.

"Sorry we had to cut the trip short."

Eric dropped his smile and shrugged. "It's fine."

But before he could walk away again, Kyle continued: "I guess I underestimated how much it would affect me," he tried to chuckle then, hollow and supposedly light-hearted. "Like, I told you, I've never been hunting before. So… yeah, anyway, I appreciate you letting me tag along. Thanks."

Eric glanced between the shed and Kyle, unsure what to say. So he nodded, and thankfully that was enough to placate his guest. Eric saw him sigh, and that relieved exhale seemed to melt his awkward smile into a content grin. Kyle entered the cabin, but even then Eric kept looking at the spot where he had stood.

* * *

Although he spent a lot of time in the shed, it wasn't Eric's favourite place to be. The dank odour it possessed was that of the unappetising side of nature, and because there was zero electricity the only light source was the small window curtained by thin, crumbling cobwebs. But Eric wasn't too concerned with aesthetic details. After all, the shed served its purpose. And he was just as pragmatic about what occurred in there. He never flinched when cutting open the animals he had taken from the mountain, gutting them and preparing them accordingly so they would be fit for his plate. Natural predators felt no remorse when they pounced on their prey, tore through their flesh with teeth and claws, every creature needed to eat. Including Eric.

But when he had removed the doe from the knapsack and placed it on the slab, he was drawn to her cold, lifeless eyes and they had reflected Kyle's distressed, mournful stare in the forest. For the first time, Eric had hesitated with his shining knife in hand. When blood had oozed out of the first incision, still fresh and shimmering red, Eric had registered the coppery scent crawling up his nostrils for the first time in years and he had coughed, disgusted. He had tasted metal on his tongue and his heart had clenched as if it were poisoned.

He wouldn't let the guilt seep in, no, he still believed he was innocent because he had somebody to blame. Kyle. His reaction had gotten to him, permeated his conscience before the sight of that dead doe in his mini abattoir had. But Kyle also proved to be an effective distraction. That smile outside the cabin was just as embedded in Eric's warring mind. So as he worked Eric had concentrated on that smile, on the numerous smiles he had seen spread across Kyle's face since the day they met, and wondered if there was a way he could consciously elicit them. Being snowed in, evidently, did not make Kyle smile. It made him retreat into an anxiety and despair that was crushing him, crushing what had intrigued Eric and endeared him to Kyle in the first place. Unfortunately, there was nothing Eric could do about the storm. As much as he liked to believe he was the most powerful being on this mountain, there were higher forces beyond the peaks he could not compete with. Still, he could make the best out of a bad situation. Comprise, he begrudgingly realised, was just the start. Wrapping up the tender pieces of venison, he left the shed and made his way back to the cabin.

He didn't say anything when he entered the house, nor did Kyle respond to his presence. Eric wasn't offended; instead he went to the kitchen and placed the meat in the fridge for later. He washed his hands stained a deep, bloody pink and as his eyes roamed the room he remembered that there was hot chocolate in one of the cupboards. A potential ice breaker, a truce of sorts.

_Lame, but it's a start._

Sighing to himself, Eric dried his hands, left the kitchen and peered into the living room. Kyle was sat on the couch as usual, staring at the burnt out fire, and even though he had been staying with Eric for a couple of days now, approaching Kyle was still a rather nerve-wracking process for him. It was the most sustained amount of contact Eric had had with another person for a long time.

Eric stood by the threshold of the living room, stroking the wooden door frame. "Hey…"

Kyle flinched and looked up. Maybe he hadn't heard Eric come in at all?

"I'm, uh, making hot chocolate," Eric said, fidgeting. "Do you want some?"

Kyle blinked but his grin relaxed Eric immediately.

"You have hot chocolate?" He asked, sitting up. "Why didn't you say so before?"

Eric laughed shyly at what he now recognised to be a joke and ducked his head. But when he looked up Kyle was still there smiling softly at him, eyes glinting. And what Eric felt in his heart wasn't a twinge, a pang, or anything bitter. It was warm and elated, it was relief.


	4. A Little Sweeter

Just as Eric had hoped, the hot chocolate proved to be the perfect remedy for the friction felt living in such close quarters with Kyle, melting the frostiness. They had made minimal conversation as they sipped at their beverages, with Kyle putting in most of the effort. But at least things were back to normal. Conversation didn't come naturally to Eric, nor did platitudes or insincerity of the saccharine kind. But it did to Kyle, who was inquisitive and outspoken, and it was only when Kyle had perked up did Eric see those charming facets of his personality glow once more. He couldn't believe how much he had missed them.

They had dinner, and Kyle didn't show any hesitation of digging into his food, although he must've had some inclination that their meal was the doe Eric had shot in the forest. Hunger must've overruled sympathy. After all, every creature has to eat. Still, after dinner Kyle had announced that he was sleepy and going to bed, which was still the couch. Eric hadn't protested. It was not as if he could watch TV anyway, with the living room occupied. He had almost reached the top of the stairs when Kyle called out good night to him and Eric had found himself smiling when he returned the sentiment.

He had lain awake for a while, staring at the snowfall outside whilst warm under his pelts and thought of how long this storm would last, if it would improve soon, and how long Kyle would have to stay with him. It had only been a couple of days and yet Eric constantly felt like he was toeing the line between comfort and discomfort, and that was only because Kyle's mood was veering all over this undesirable, impractical situation. When Kyle was happy, he was incandescent. He was bubbling warmth, and compassion, and earnestness that Eric had very rarely known in others. He supposed that's why he was so unnerved by him, intrigued by him, drawn to him. He supposed that's why he had dismantled his boundaries, tentatively and frugally, yes, but Eric was greedy. He had always been greedy, always been wanting, never able to shake off the terrifying notion that something was missing from his insatiable life. Another perk to being alone? Nobody else to disappoint you but yourself.

But when Kyle was depressed, he was as drained as starless night, confusing Eric and angering him inexplicably. He wasn't confused as to why Kyle felt so low, the cabin was obviously not where he had imagined himself riding out the storm. Eric could've blamed his anger on Kyle's supposed ingratitude, but he knew that the roots of his perplexity were intertwined with the emotional weeds he thought he cut years ago; concern, fondness, attachment. But incandescent Kyle must've shone brighter than Eric was even aware, seeping into the soil. Despite his disdain, despite his stubbornness, he still sought a glimmer of Kyle's light. Occasionally, that glow splintered through the gloom even when he was miserable. Eric was okay with that.

Another heavy shower had struck the mountain while Eric was sleeping, and while the fresh air might've done him good, he knew it would be foolish to try to hunt. To keep himself busy, Eric had decided to make some more preserves instead, to fill the cupboards and to sell at the next county fair. When Eric went downstairs, Kyle had still been sleeping, oblivious to the worsened conditions. Braving the cold for less than two minutes, Eric had gone to the greenhouse to pick any fruit he could.

Now, the smell of strawberries simmering in the preserving pan embraced the kitchen with warm, perfumed arms and Eric watched as he stirred the mixture, hypnotic enough that he didn't hear the soft sound of feet padding into the room.

"What's that smell? It woke me up."

Eric nearly dropped the wooden spoon into the pan when he heard Kyle's voice, still hoarse with the remnants of sleep.

"Sorry," he murmured, trying to keep his gaze away from Kyle.

Kyle chuckled and shook his head. "No, don't be. I'm not complaining. Wait, are you making strawberry jam?"

Eric succumbed to Kyle's curious expression, and then returned his gaze to the mixture and stared hard as if he needed confirmation. He nodded and earned Kyle's smirk, but stood still and unresponsive when Kyle came closer, inspecting his equipment and the remains of the strawberries.

"So the jam on my toast these last couple of mornings… you made that?" Kyle asked.

Again, Eric nodded, trying to appear disinterested and focused on his task, but his heart couldn't help but swell with self-satisfaction along with his head, and suddenly the room felt a tad stuffier.

"Your face is a little red," Kyle pointed out with a snicker.

"No, it isn't!"

_Shit, it's noticeable?_

"Yes, it is!" Kyle chuckled. "Look at you, all humble!"

Eric scowled, but that didn't seem to extinguish Kyle's amusement. If anything, it exacerbated it.

"It's just the heat…" He mumbled.

"If you say so," Kyle sighed, watching Eric stir. "But seriously, the jam you make is delicious."

"Thanks," Eric replied, offering Kyle a half, tight-lipped smile that Kyle reciprocated, only a little more fearlessly.

"So you're whipping up a new batch, huh?"

"Yeah, well, hunting's out," Eric replied, nodding to the view outside the window.

"I can see that," Kyle replied flatly, his gaze lingering on the unforgiving white. He then raked his contemplative gaze over Eric, before he said, "Look, I know yesterday was a bust but maybe I can make up for it by helping you out now?"

"You don't have to make up for anything. It's not a big deal-"

"I know, I know, you've said that already, but I still feel really bad and it would give me something to do other than mope on the couch all day."

Although moping on the couch would mean Kyle was out of Eric's way, letting him continue his usual routine, Eric didn't want to send them back to square one when they had only just escaped it, nor did he want Kyle's mood to plummet and crash. Hunting together had failed, making Eric a little reluctant to let Kyle partake in his usual activities but making jam wasn't exactly difficult, and certainly not distressing.

"Okay, sure," Eric replied.

"Cool, thanks," Kyle grinned, before immediately taking his place next to Eric. Their elbows bumped together and threw off Eric's stirring of the mixture. "Fair warning, cooking isn't my speciality but it can't be any worse than hunting, right?"

"No, I guess not," Eric murmured.

"Great," Kyle replied. "This should be fun!"

At least he was optimistic.

* * *

Kyle had freshened up and made himself a cup of coffee while Eric finished off the batch of strawberry jam, since he needed little help with it. But as soon as Eric had announced he was done and that they were moving on to some of the other fruit he had salvaged from the frosty greenhouse, Kyle was up on his feet immediately, eager to make some raspberry jam. Eric had shook his head and smiled when Kyle wasn't looking; relieved to find that enthusiasm that had been missing when they went hunting.

"Are these berries mashed enough?"

Eric inspected the two cups of raspberries that Kyle had been designated to crush. One cup remained untouched, and the other was a pinkish, delicious mess.

"Sure," he replied.

Kyle smiled tightly at him before he moved on to the second cup, grasping the raspberries and crushing them in his hand, eyes glinting and his tongue peeking out of his wicked half-grin as the juice travelled in thin rivulets down his arm. Eric snickered, eyebrow arched. Kyle was having more fun squishing raspberries than he had been with the rifle.

"And what happens then?" Kyle asked, after he quickly finished crushing the second cup of raspberries.

"We boil them," Eric replied, still focused on his own cups.

But out of the corner of his eye he saw Kyle smirking at him, felt Kyle's thoughtful green gaze on him, and his silence prompted a shiver to race up Eric's spine, making the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end, frozen as the icicles that decorated the roof. He was used to being stared at when he went into the supermarket, but people usually turned away when they received his steely glare. Never did they linger, never did they study, and never did they take the time to look a little deeper, even just an inch beneath the surface. Nobody had ever tried to work him out, not even he could do that. So why did Kyle think he was any different?

"What?" Eric mumbled.

Kyle didn't answer, he snickered instead, and defensive anger suddenly swelled beneath Eric's lungs.

"Nothing, I just…" Kyle pursed his lips, glancing between the raspberries and Eric. "You come across as this stoic, serious mountain man who's never so much as shed a tear in his life let alone made jam."

Eric furrowed his eyebrows, unsure how to process this information that was nothing new to him. Was he glad that Kyle hadn't seen beyond what was visible, or disappointed at Kyle's unoriginal findings? Just like Kyle, he chose not to answer, returning to his task.

"I didn't mean – I just… I'm sorry if I've offended you," Kyle suddenly said. The crease in Eric's brow deepened and he glanced at Kyle, noting that a similar distress had been present in his voice when he discovered they were snowed in. "I really didn't mean to insult you, I was just making an observation. A stupid observation really, since this is the twenty-first century and men should be able make jam without having their masculinity called into question. Not that I was calling yours into question, I just – fuck! Believe me, I don't always come across this narrow-minded, because I'm not I'm really not-"

Rolling his eyes, Eric clamped a raspberry-covered hand over Kyle's mouth, since there was no indication he would shut up soon and the conversationally inept Eric wouldn't have been able to get a word in anyway. Kyle's eyes had widened, crossing slightly as they travelled to Eric's hand before they rose to Eric's face, brows knitted.

"Quit babbling. It's cool," Eric said slowly, removing his hand from Kyle's mouth and Kyle smiled gratefully. His mouth and chin were stained pink and dotted with fruit bits. Eric suffocated a chuckle.

"You've got some…" He said as he pointed to Kyle's mouth.

Kyle lifted his fingers to his lips, a tiny bit of raspberry sticking to his fingertip. His cheeks flushed immediately, and as Eric watched the colour spread he couldn't help but let a smile spread across his face too.

Licking the raspberry off his fingertip, Kyle then proceeded to lick his lips to clean up the rest of the mess. And while Eric felt disappointed at the loss of such an endearing sight, Kyle's coy tongue tracing his lips stoked an arousal that Eric thought had shrivelled into cinders.

"I, I have a cloth if you want to…"

"Thanks," Kyle replied sheepishly.

Eric found the cloth and handed it to Kyle, watching as he wiped away the remaining raspberry stain.

"All better?" Kyle asked when he was done, tilting his head with his chin up as if he were being photographed.

Eric nodded, reminded of yesterday when Kyle had posed on the stairs.

"Good," Kyle replied, before his eyes scanned the fruit and the jars soon to be filled with jam. "It's really smart of you, to make preserves. They'll last you long enough up here and you'll always know there's something in the cupboard… no more running back and forth the store all the time."

Kyle chuckled and Eric smirked back a little uneasily, since his recent, frequent visits to the supermarket had nothing to do with jam…

"Do you make a lot?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah, with what I can."

"I'll have to try them sometime."

"Sure," Eric replied. He looked at the cups of fruit, ready to go in the pot. "We should start boiling these."

"Right," Kyle said with a nod.

Eric scooped out the fruit into the boiling water, before adding some sugar while Kyle watched.

"Homemade goods are really profitable," Kyle commented.

"Yeah?" Eric replied, like he didn't know.

"Yeah. You could start a nice, little business here. And you wouldn't have to move from this cabin. It would be a great source of income-"

"I already have a fine source of income."

"Oh?" Kyle asked, turning to Eric with arms folded across his chest. "Doing what?"

"I sell most of my preserves at county fairs, pelts and game too," Eric replied, his eyes were still trained on the pot.

"And that's enough to live on? To keep this place going? I didn't know county fairs were so lucrative."

"Yeah, well, college know-it-all hippies are willing to pay anything for organic produce. They don't exactly notice when you rip them off."

Kyle laughed, the sound drawing Eric's gaze to him, but he had ducked his head though his smile was distinguishable and infectious.

"I don't blow it all either, I save it," Eric added, emboldened. "I only spend it when I have to."

Kyle nodded. "So that explains the, uh…"

"What?"

Kyle lifted his head and replied, "That big wad of cash you gave me when I first served you at the store. Remember?"

Eric blinked, he felt like there was a dumbbell lodged in his throat when he gulped, and his face was burning, he couldn't blame it on the heat this time.

"Yeah, I remember…" he smiled shyly.

Twelve years of solitude and yet when he first laid eyes on Kyle he was captivated, how could he ever forget?

* * *

The batch of raspberry jam now completed, Kyle was keen to sample some of the other preserves lining Eric's cupboards. Jars that hadn't seen daylight for months were now placed on the kitchen table, their contents gleaming and tempting, a delectable rainbow of golden oranges, pale greens, bloody purples, and bruised reds with no discernible gradient.

"Okay, what's this one?" Kyle asked, already smearing the thick, red preserve onto his toast.

"Plum chutney," Eric replied.

"Chutney? I've never tried it," Kyle said, before taking a bite anyway.

Eric pursed his lips and watched Kyle chew. Even when selling his preserves at county fairs he never felt this nervous, if nobody was interested all he was lost was some profit from a few strangers. But Kyle had been so enthusiastic, and Eric had suddenly found himself not wanting to disappoint him.

"Oh my god…" Kyle continued, after he had swallowed. "That's incredible!"

Eric's sealed lips were longing to pique upwards in a relieved smile, so he gave them some relief.

"Thanks," he replied with a quick, small smile, before he shifted slightly in his chair.

"You may not be a man of many words, but you're a man of many talents," Kyle grinned, and with every compliment he was sure to etch that smile permanently onto Eric's face. "At the risk of sounding like an idiot again, how did you learn to make these things? Somebody must have taught you."

And with just one personal question he had evaporated Eric's smile immediately.

Clearing his throat, Eric replied, "my mom."

"She made preserves?"

"No, she was just a great cook," Eric answered, before his gaze wandered to the table as if his past was laid out on it. Just like Eric had set out preserves for Kyle to try, so too had Kyle indulged him just enough in his childhood that he could reminisce. "I always watched her. My grandpa had a garden and a greenhouse. He would make all this stuff and I'd help him."

"So you've been doing this for a while?"

When Eric looked up he saw Kyle staring at him with a creased smile and glinting eyes. He had no idea why Kyle would look at him that way, in a way Eric recognised to be astounded, but he didn't mind. He couldn't remember the last person who had looked at him like that.

"Since I was a little kid," he replied.

Kyle's gaze roamed the kitchen, and he even glanced at the wintry scene outside with a certain calm and appreciation, instead of the fear and resentment usually present in his eyes at the sight.

"Well, it's obvious that you're well equipped for this type of… lifestyle," Kyle said carefully, before chuckling. "You take self-sufficient to a whole new level!"

Eric blinked, he was unsure what to say. Perhaps flattery had robbed him of his words. "Um, thanks?"

"You're welcome," Kyle returned, before taking another bite of his toast slathered with plum chutney.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything about this chapter is quaint. Small word count, little bit of fluff and backstory (more of that next chapter), and making jam. What's quainter than that? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!


	5. Show Your Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The longest chapter so far, but with good reason. Hope you enjoy and I'd love to know your thoughts!

Their day spent in the kitchen had been a turning point. Now Kyle was even more enthusiastic to help Eric in certain activities (excluding hunting, of course), and Eric was now more willing to let Kyle participate. He had realised that inclusion in things such as jam-making was a great source of entertainment for Kyle, therefore maintaining his good mood that Eric found as equally enjoyable. Company didn't seem like such a hindrance to his lifestyle if it came packaged in the form of witty, charming Kyle.

It had been two days since their successful batch of raspberry jam, and the erratic storm had brought only mild flurries and a brief, crackly phone call from the rangers informing Eric the pass was still closed and that another shower was heading for the mountain. In short, Kyle wasn't going anywhere soon and Eric had better make the most of this sparse break in the weather. Kyle had watched Eric converse with the rangers with pursed lips and shining, hopeful eyes, so to see him deflate when he relayed the less-than-great news was a pretty uneasy experience. Especially since Kyle's slouched shoulders, heavy, detached gaze and small frown had cried out for comfort, of which Eric knew nothing about and winced at what it involved.

Physical interaction? A soothing tone of voice? Lying? Eric was fairly skilled in the latter, but his fragmented morality had restrained him from deceiving Kyle. As much as he had wanted him to cheer up, Eric hadn't been able to see any benefit to himself or to Kyle if he had just offered him ambiguous platitudes regarding their situation.

But he did have one remedy that was now tried and tested; distraction. Eric couldn't put his arm around Kyle and console him, or tell him what he wanted to hear, or take him home, but he could shift Kyle's despairing focus to something more constructive. Plus, Eric had a lot of work to do if this was the only barely decent weather they were going to get for a while.

So Eric had suggested they go out back and chop some firewood, since they were going to need it. Kyle had offered him a lacklustre response, nodding and forcing a smile, before slowly standing up and retrieving his coat and scarf. Admittedly disappointed, Eric had tried not to let Kyle's demeanour bother him, and they had walked around to the backyard in silence, with Kyle piping up only once to inform Eric that he merely wanted to watch, he didn't have the energy to chop any wood himself.

Eric hadn't responded, letting Kyle lean against the wall with his arms folded while he began to chop the large, fat pieces of timber he kept behind the shed into smaller pieces suitable for the fire. There was barely any wind, and the cold air that usually flowed through the mountain like an icy river, carrying snowflakes like flotsam, now hung dead and defeated, suspended from the atmosphere. But Eric was still sweating, aching, and his jacket and shirt had grown stuffy. So he had discarded them, a white t-shirt bracing his torso from the chill. But the cold on his arms was as welcome as a numbing kiss and a relief to the damp nape of his neck.

"You could give Mr November in this year's Chippendales calendar a run for his money, you know that?"

Eric lifted his head at the sound of Kyle's voice, and saw him smirking in the shadow of the cabin. The smirk, along with Kyle's comment, made Eric feel stuffier than his jacket had. He averted his gaze and chucked to himself, glad Kyle was finally talking.

"Those pussies couldn't do this…" Eric replied when he brought the axe up over his head. A part of him was now delighted that Kyle was witnessing him do something decidedly more manly than jam making, and he didn't make any effort to quiet it.

"I don't know, they're pretty fit," Kyle said, the snow crunching beneath his boots as he walked over to Eric. "Is it hard?"

When Eric looked up, the wood and the tree stump/chopping block were the only things separating him and Kyle. And Kyle was still waiting for an answer, his arms still folded across his chest.

"You wanna try?" Eric asked with a challenging half-smile.

"Sure," Kyle shrugged, walking over to Eric's side.

He reflected the challenge Eric had dealt him, and they only fuelled one another. Handing Kyle the axe, Eric snickered when Kyle huffed at is surprising weight. Just like Kyle had never hunted back in New Jersey, Eric was confident he never had to chop wood either.

"Alright?" Eric asked, giving Kyle some space.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Kyle replied a little irritably. "So what do I do?"

_Just as I thought._

"You wanna aim for the centre and stand with your legs apart," Eric instructed.

Kyle obeyed, looking to Eric for further guidance.

"Now lift the axe straight over your head and bring it forward," Eric continued. "Make sure to keep it straight."

Kyle nodded, his tongue poking out in concentration as he lifted the axe over his head and brought it swiftly down in a decent first attempt, a deep split in the wood already. Eric blinked and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, impressed, and Kyle grinned smugly.

"Go a little faster now," Eric said. "Let the axe do the work."

Kyle continued chopping, panting like Eric as he did so and Eric found himself transfixed on the blade plunging into the wood, the log coming further and further apart with every aggressive strike. Finally, Kyle growled and the log fell away into two, revealing its pale, jagged interior.

Eric cleared his throat. "You're, uh…"

"What?" Kyle panted, turning to Eric and now holding the axe limply.

"Good at this."

Kyle arched an eyebrow and asked, "You didn't think I would be?"

Eric gulped and fidgeted.

"N-n-no! I mean yeah, I mean…" He sighed and ducked his head, before explaining, "I just didn't think you'd have that much experience."

"Well, I don't think experience counts for much in this instance," Kyle gloated. "It's strength. Of which I have plenty."

Eric snickered and raked his gaze over Kyle. It wasn't difficult for Kyle to be shorter than him, since Eric was taller than average and perhaps that skewed his perception a little, but brawn wasn't necessarily apparent when looking at Kyle.

"Oh, you don't believe me?" Kyle asked, stepping forward and extending another challenge.

Lifting his arm, Kyle was apparently flexing his muscles beneath his coat. "Come on!"

Eric's eyebrows furrowed and his chuckle was laced with confusion as well as amusement.

"You have a coat on," he pointed out. "That's not fair."

Kyle rolled his eyes.

"I'm not taking it off, it's freezing!"

"Fine," Eric replied, thereby accepting Kyle's challenge before it dawned on him that he was going to have touch Kyle. Sudden apprehension was tempting him to forfeit.

He had touched Kyle before, of course; when he taught him how to hold the rifle, when they hid from the doe in the forest, but this was different. Those instances were necessary and instigated by him. This was spontaneous, playful, yet somehow more deliberate. An invitation not an obligation.

"Well?" Kyle asked.

Eric remembered himself, breaking out of his contemplation. "Oh, yeah, uh…"

Stepping forward, Eric then reached out and gently cupped Kyle's bicep. Even beneath his coat it was impressive, firm, warm… what would it feel like bare? Eric brushed his thumb against the obtrusive fabric, trying to imagine Kyle's pale skin, the freckles crawling up his limbs, sometimes shrouded by wiry, scarlet curls, and decorating lean muscles.

"Pretty impressive, huh?"

Again, Kyle's voice pulled Eric out of his increasingly murky thoughts.

"Um, I, I guess," Eric replied, snatching his hand away with his head slightly bowed.

"That's what spending your entire teens playing basketball gets you," Kyle quipped.

Eric snickered hollowly and glanced at the powdered conifers, trying to focus on something cold.

"Alright, big guy…" Kyle smirked, taking a step closer to Eric.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Eric asked, his heart suddenly jumping into a more frenetic rhythm.

There was a tiny dent in Kyle's brow when he chuckled, "Feeling yours!"

"My what?"

"Your biceps! Since you're, like, the real-life Paul Bunyan."

Eric snickered sheepishly, scratching the nape of his clammy neck. "Right…"

"Unless you're scared I'm stronger?" Kyle goaded.

Nerves dissipating at the realisation of imminent victory, Eric smirked and tensed his huge, well covered bicep, a product of genetics and twelve years of daily physical labour. Kyle regarded his bulging bicep warily, defeated, but reached up and squeezed it anyway. Kyle's stiff, cold fingers had their own sweet sting.

"Holy crap!" He laughed disbelievingly before backing away. "What… how… "

Eric gestured to the pile of firewood they had accumulated.

"It's a great workout," he answered.

"Clearly," Kyle replied, raking his gaze over Eric and making him feel about three inches tall. "You work up quite a sweat."

Eric gulped, too shaky and inept to investigate the connotations of Kyle's remark while trying to formulate a reply. Something casual…

"Yeah, I should probably have a shower," he blurted.

Kyle blinked, that dent had returned in his brow when he searched for his own response.

"Okay..." He said hesitantly, before he asked, "hey, is it alright if I wash these clothes? I've been wearing them for days and they're getting a little gross."

"Yeah, sure," Eric nodded, picking up the piles of wood and unceremoniously walking away. But Kyle quickly followed him. "I don't think I have anything that will fit you though."

"I don't care as long as it's clean," Kyle replied.

"I'll find something," Eric assured.

* * *

Eric didn't have a drier, so after he'd showered and washed his and Kyle's clothes (also by hand, sat in the kitchen and crouched over a washboard as he scrubbed), he placed them on a rack by the fireplace. The living room glowed in the fading afternoon and the burning wood crackled and croaked.

Kyle was still in the bathroom, showering while Eric had searched his wardrobe for appropriate, temporary clothing for him. His bathtub lacked a shower curtain (he didn't need one), so to preserve Kyle's privacy he had placed the change of clothes on the floor outside the bathroom.

"Hey…"

Eric hadn't even heard Kyle come downstairs, his voice floating into the living room. But when he finally acknowledged Kyle, he had to purse his lips to suppress his laughter. Eric knew whatever clothes he gave to Kyle wouldn't be ideal, but he had no idea they would look _this_ ridiculous. The sweats he had loaned him were so long they pooled at his feet, and the plaid shirt Kyle was wearing swamped his frame, his arms lost in the sleeves. The ensemble, paired with Kyle's knowing eyes and faintly exasperated smile was only making the laughter swell in Eric's throat.

"Go ahead," Kyle sighed. "Laugh at me…"

Eric just chuckled and shook his head, sympathy subduing his amusement, as well as how strangely sweet and comforting it was to see somebody wrapped up in his clothing, sharing something he owned. He hoped that the soft fabric against Kyle's skin inspired a similar comfort, despite his unusual surroundings. Kyle shuffled over to the couch and plopped down next to Eric, watching the clothes dry by the fire.

"I almost fell down the stairs," he said. "I had to lift the bottom of these sweats up so I didn't trip, like I was going to a ball or something."

Eric snickered, the smell of soap travelled up his nostrils and made him turn his attention to Kyle. Apparently his gaze was noticeable, as Kyle turned his head and rested it on the dull leather.

"How was your shower?" he asked.

Eric furrowed his eyebrows, for his showers rarely differed. They were just showers…

"Um, good, I guess," he replied. "How was yours?"

"Great, thanks," Kyle smiled. "Although…" he scratched at the growing stubble on his jaw. "Do you have a razor?"

Eric shook his head, despite his best efforts and an uncharacteristic amount of patience he had never been able to grow a beard that wasn't patchy. Even at the age of thirty two his facial hair was still rather pubescent, wispy tuffs of copper.

Kyle sighed and rubbed his chin. "Guess I'm letting this grow out then."

"It could look pretty cool," Eric offered.

Kyle brightened then. "You think so?"

"Yeah, you'll look like a Viking," Eric teased.

Kyle laughed and nodded.

"That would be interesting," he replied, gazing at the fire before he asked, "how long until our clothes are dry?"

Eric shrugged. "A couple hours."

"So we have some time to kill…"

"What do you want to do?"

Kyle grinned at Eric, and he felt his palms prickle with sweat.

"Do you have any playing cards lying around?" Kyle asked.

* * *

In a drawer of miscellany in the kitchen, Eric had found a pack of playing cards he couldn't remember purchasing. He must have acquired them long ago, since he didn't have anybody to play them with up here. But now he had Kyle, who had lit up at the sight of the weathered cards, and offered to shuffle them when he and Eric sat around the kitchen table to play a game of basic rummy.

Whereas Eric had never listed card games as one of his hobbies, Kyle certainly had some experience, contorting the deck into all kinds of fluttering shapes as he shuffled it. Admittedly, that should've been Eric's first clue that Kyle had the advantage over him. After all, putting on a show couldn't have been the only reason Kyle was so eager to shuffle the deck. And that was evident now, seeing as Eric was losing and Kyle was clearly winning. Eric was waiting for a seven of spades and a seven of diamonds to add to the pair of sevens he already had, and the other three cards he held were not forming a sequence. Meanwhile, Kyle was attempting to hide a smirk behind his own cards, a signal Eric was sure that Kyle was cheating.

"Problem?" Kyle asked, after Eric had another unsuccessful turn.

"I'm losing," he replied.

Kyle took his turn, picking up a card from the stock and grinning at what he saw. He added it to his hand while discarding an eight of clubs.

Eric shook his head. "If you've cheated…"

"I haven't!" Kyle said with an incredulous laugh.

"Then how come you're so good at this?"

Kyle shrugged and teased, "Luck of the draw?"

Eric glared at Kyle over his cards.

"Fine, I've been playing this for years," Kyle admitted. "My dad taught me and my brother how to play a ton of card games."

"What was he? A blackjack dealer?" Eric asked, figuring Kyle's dad must have had some knowledge of cards on a professional level to be able to teach Kyle so much. "A magician?"

"No, a gambling addict," Kyle replied, studying his cards.

Eric blinked and averted his stare, embarrassed as if he had walked in on Kyle changing clothes, an accidental invasion of privacy. Or was it? Since Kyle had offered the answer freely and without any discomfort? That Eric could see at least.

"Oh…" he murmured, picking up a card from the stock. It was a three of spades that he could add to the four he already possessed. He traded the Jack of hearts for it.

"So I guess we're sharing now, huh?" Kyle asked, an awkward breeziness residing in his question. "Had to happen eventually."

Kyle picked up the Jack Eric had just discarded from the pile and added it to his hand. Eric feigned deafness, ignoring what Kyle had said and immediately taking his turn but the stock came up empty.

"After the first time I served you at the store, a couple of my co-workers were asking about you," Kyle continued, undeterred. "What you were like, what you said to me…"

Kyle took his turn but like Eric, was unlucky. Again, Eric didn't respond, he just listened. Anxiety and irritation wrestled in his gut, wondering what those assholes at the store could've told Kyle about him, wondering why he even cared.

"I told them you were pretty quiet, grumpy… mysterious," Kyle's lips quirked in a half smirk when he said that last word. "I had a few questions about you myself."

Eric's gut clenched then, those two fierce emotions locked in an intense battle. He managed to swallow the lump – _boulder_ – that had been lodged in his throat. With prickling fingers he took his turn, but the stock, once again, wasn't favouring him.

"But everybody was just as stumped as I was," Kyle continued, before shaking his head and chuckling, "you should've heard some of the theories they had! My personal favourites were that you were either an orphan raised by wolves on the mountain, or that you were once a bear who had turned into a human."

Eric gritted his teeth, loathing such absurd stories, Kyle's chuckle, and the idea that he was complicit in this degrading speculation about his life. That last notion stung a lot sharper than he thought it would, bristling against his heart and making his face flush oppressively. He shifted in his chair, shoulders raised.

"Obviously that's ridiculous…" Kyle said considerately, his chuckle was limp and apologetic. He took his turn, placing a seven of spades on the discard pile. "But you're kind of a legend around here, did you know that?"

Eric didn't answer, taking the card Kyle had just discarded and getting rid of a four of clubs.

"You've gone quiet on me again," Kyle commented. "Just when I thought you were coming out of your shell…"

Kyle took his turn but the stock offered him nothing.

"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable," he added, edged with his own frustration. "I'd just like to know the truth, so we're not strangers anymore."

Eric blinked and lifted his head, and when he met Kyle's eyes it felt like a collision.

"You think I'm a stranger?" He asked.

Kyle sighed, studying his cards and rubbing his thumb along one of the corners.

"I used to," he admitted. "Even when you invited me up here you still felt like a stranger to me. But this past week you've been kind, and hospitable, and thoughtful in a blunt, clumsy kind of way. And yeah, you've been a tad jerky and tough on me too sometimes, but I still think you're fascinating. When I first saw you at the store, I was intrigued."

This time Eric's silence wasn't a chosen one, or a forced one. Kyle had simply robbed him of his words. He had been brave enough to confess what he had to Eric, to look at him while did. Eric felt that bravery should be rewarded, and he realised Kyle was right, they were sharing now. Yes, Eric had been sharing his cabin with Kyle for a week, and Kyle had allowed Eric a glimpse into his life, his family. And although Eric had offered Kyle his couch to sleep on, Kyle still knew very little about him, they knew very little about each other. Eric hadn't had the courage to enquire, or to share. Maybe they were strangers after all, and Eric didn't want them to be.

"What do you want to know?" He asked, his heart already pounding, signalling danger, his mouth already dry.

But Kyle's smile, slow, gentle, white, and glowing was like a pair of outstretched arms ready to welcome him.

"Why do you live here? What's the appeal?" Kyle asked. "Where do you come from?"

Eric gulped and exhaled through his nose in preparation.

"Nebraska," he replied. "I lived in Nebraska with my mom and my grandparents."

Kyle nodded, but said, "Funny, I always thought you had lived in South Park."

"No… no, I used to come here with my dad."

"Your dad? He didn't live with you and your mom?"

"No, I didn't meet him until I was nine," Eric replied. "He… we lived in the same town, but I had no idea who he was until he came over to my house one night. He was talking to my mom, and he told her he wanted to see me. I was in my room, trying to listen to what they were saying… which wasn't difficult since pretty soon my mom and my grandparents and my dad were all fucking screaming at each other."

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows, as if he were concerned for the child Eric used to be. "Weren't you scared?"

"A little," Eric replied with a small, uncomfortable shrug. "They kept telling my dad to get out and that it was too late for him to meet me, and I remember running – _sprinting_ – down the stairs to see him before he could go. So, yeah, they couldn't _not_ introduce us then."

"How did you feel?" Kyle asked; game of rummy forgotten. "When you met him?"

Eric stared at the table, pursing his lips and trying to concentrate and recall that initial, innocent flood of emotions that he had felt when meeting his father for the first time, but he couldn't. They were clouded by memory, and hindsight, and bitterness.

"Happy, I guess," he answered. "I don't remember saying anything. I hated it when he wasn't around but when he was in front of me I didn't know if I liked it. He shook my hand though, and smiled at me, but he was looking at the door. I remember that, he just kept looking at the door…"

Eric blinked then and coughed into his fist before he continued:

"He called every day. My mom had a problem with it at first, I think she always had a problem but she never stopped me from talking to him. He would apologise over and over, I can't tell you how many times I forgave him. He kept talking about wanting to make up for everything, for all these years he had missed, and he kept asking me if we could bond. I had no idea what the hell that meant but if I could hang out with him then, yeah, that would be great.

"I think it was, like, a month after he came to my house that one night when he asked my mom if he could take me on a hunting trip. I remember having to wake up real early one Saturday because Colorado was a long drive, and I was standing on the front porch with my mom. She was telling me to be careful and to listen to my dad, and to tell him if anything was wrong, and she kept babbling when my dad pulled up in his truck and fucking Scott was sitting shotgun and I had never met that prick before-"

"Who's Scott?"

"My brother. My half-brother, I mean," Eric clarified. "He was fifteen then, so he knew that while dad was playing happy families with him and his mom he was also fucking my mom behind their backs and a bunch of other chicks too. He hated my guts. He tried to ruin that trip for me but he couldn't, I wouldn't let him."

"And you came here?"

"Yeah, we drove to South Park and went camping on this mountain," Eric replied, before snickering and thumbing at the card in his hand fondly as he reminisced. "It was my very first hunting trip. My dad had loaned me one of his guns, taught me how to fire it. I shot a rabbit on my first try. Scott was so fucking jealous, I loved it. I loved… everything about that trip," his smile grew wider. "I never wanted it to end, I never wanted to go home because everything just seemed better here, easier, and like I belonged, like it was just me and my dad always. And when I shot that rabbit, he clapped me on the back and nearly winded me. But he called me 'son' and told me was proud of me. Nothing had ever felt so good."

Kyle was smiling too at Eric's childhood memories, and it brimmed in his eyes. "Did you come up here a lot?"

"Yeah, a few times every year," Eric replied.

"Are you still close to your dad?" Kyle asked. "Do you still talk to him?"

Eric's smile vanished then, and he ducked his head to hide from Kyle any other telling signs of emotion that could appear on his face.

"Eric?" Kyle asked, tilting his head to see him, so he could reach Eric's eyes.

"No," Eric replied, lifting his head and clearing his throat. "No, I don't talk to him."

"Well, what happened?" Kyle asked, before he shook his head and tried to dismiss the question. "Unless you don't want to say-"

"It's just, we were never really close," Eric interrupted, figuring he had come this far. "I've been thinking about it for years and… everything all seems so far away, and too perfect to be true. I can't be sure if it was as ever as good as I remember because…" Eric frowned and ran a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as if it would help him find a solution (rather, a _resolution_ ), or maybe to just will away the past, erase it, compartmentalise it. "I hated going home because it was like I was invisible again, you know? I never, ever saw him, and he would ignore my calls, or when he saw me and my mom in the street and… that fucking sympathetic, guilty act he put on when he contacted me the first time was just that. A stupid act… or maybe he just realised what a mistake this all was, that he had made, what I clearly was to him…"

"Eric…" Kyle whispered.

Eric jolted when he felt a foot brush against his under the table.

"It's fine, Kyle, I don't want anybody's pity I just…" Eric paused, looked to the ceiling. "I try not to think about all this so it's, like, I'm just telling you everything when I haven't even figured it all out yet and I probably sound like an idiot, or a pussy or something-"

"No, you don't," Kyle cut him off firmly.

Eric shook his head, one arm was resting on the table and he placed his hand to his forehead, gripping his hair.

"I hate this," he muttered.

Kyle sighed. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me anymore if you don't want to. Although…"

"What?" Eric said, raising his head.

"You say you haven't figured it all out yet - and maybe you never will - but talking is good," Kyle replied, allowing the smallest of smiles to play across his lips. "Talking about it would go a long way in untangling it all, you know? And if you're worried about what I'll think then I promise to just listen, Eric. I won't judge you, or even talk, I'll just listen because I have no idea what you went through."

Eric exhaled shakily, his hand trembling from the weight, from the nerves. The weight of his bundled locked away thoughts, the realisations that he had made years ago he wished weren't so.

"I…"

"Yes?"

"I hated him then," Eric continued, staring at the table rather than Kyle. He told himself it was baby steps. "Or I resented him, whatever. When we were alone at a gas station or something, Scott would tell me that dad didn't care about me, that he was just being nice, that they would laugh about me after they dropped me off or before they picked me up. And at first, I didn't believe him, and when dad got back in the truck I would tell him what Scott said and he would tell Scott off and smile at me in the rear view mirror. But Scott would do it every trip, and soon I wasn't even arguing back, I wasn't saying anything when dad got back in the truck because Scott, little fucking asswipe, had gotten to me. But to dad, nothing had changed, he would never change, and I know that now."

Eric rubbed at his mouth, dry from talking, maybe he did it to distract from the stinging in his eyes too.

"I was sixteen when he died," he continued. "He got his brains blown out by some crazy, jealous guy whose wife he was fucking. And at the funeral there were so many thoughts flying around my head and so many feelings in my chest that I couldn't talk to anybody. Nothing would come out. I just felt depressed and angry and guilty and lost… I thought I was going fucking crazy, because he was gone before things could get better, I still believed they could then. When I thought of this place, the mountains, and the snow, and the quiet, and the animals, I felt calm. I felt relieved, and, and happy. At the wake, I wished that I could close my eyes and be here. But my dad wouldn't be here, Scott wouldn't be here, I wouldn't have to go back to my stupid fucking town where my dad was a sleaze and my mom was just another person he had screwed over, where _I_ was just another person he had screwed over. The thought of being here was just… this is where I belonged. I had never wanted anything so badly in all my life. Not even a dad.

"After the wake, I went back to my house and when everyone was sleeping I packed my bags, grabbed a couple of things to remind me of my mom and my grandparents, and left. It took me a while to get here. I had to find places to eat, to sleep, and then I ended up living in motels and getting odd jobs so I had money to live off of. But I didn't care about the setbacks, because I learnt a few things along the way, and if I hadn't I wouldn't have survived one winter, let alone twelve."

"So how old were you when you got here?" Kyle asked.

"Nineteen," Eric replied, he had the guts to look at Kyle then. And Kyle was waiting for him, patient and quiet. "When I went on hunting trips with my dad, this cabin used to be a small ranger station. But it was empty and rundown when I got here. On the way I had worked on building sites, picked up a few skills, I'm a fast learner so I figured I could fix the place up on my own. I worked my ass off for a year, but I finished it by the time I was twenty. Then I added things like the greenhouse and the pantry later. I liked setting myself projects to keep me busy, and surviving was my objective... _is_ my objective. I wanted to be as self-sufficient as possible, because then I was the only person who could let me down."

Kyle nodded and exhaled, his eyes roaming the room as he tried to find a response.

"Well, you've done an incredible job, Eric," he finally smiled, his eyes landing on him.

Eric rubbed the back of his neck before he replied, "Thanks…"

"And you were so young!" Kyle added disbelievingly. "You had to grow up so fast!"

"I didn't mind."

"And all on your own… did you ever get lonely?" Kyle asked, before amending his question with that earnest, expectant look Eric had become accustomed to. " _Do_ you ever get lonely?"

For the first time in a long time, Eric hesitated at that question. He didn't pretend to be ignorant, for he knew the reason for his trepidation. It was sitting right in front of him, for it wasn't only Kyle's expectant look he had become accustomed to. Although Kyle's stay here had been less than smooth, and although they were both still adjusting, Eric was starting to feel increasingly comfortable with Kyle's company at a rather rapid rate. Kyle had only been here for a little over a week.

Eric had always been lonely, even before his reclusive days in the cabin. He was raised as an only child and had hardly any friends at school. Yes, he'd had brief sources of companionship throughout his life, had met a couple of people during his lost, runaway years but they had either faded into time, or were never looked back on with any attachment or fondness. For once in his life, Eric wasn't lonely, and it didn't seem so bad.

"No…" Eric replied, shaking his head. "No, I don't…"

"Oh, right, of course you wouldn't," Kyle replied, trying to sustain his smile but it didn't last. "You seem really happy here…"

Eric frowned, wondering where Kyle's smile had disappeared to and wanting to bring it back. But he also found himself wanting to enquire about Kyle's life, voice those curiosities about Kyle's background that often circled his head when he and Kyle were sharing silence, or when he was staring up at his ceiling after wishing Kyle a good night.

"So… uh… Newark, huh?"

Kyle slid his gaze to Eric once more, bright and unassuming, and chuckled.

"Yep," he replied.

"Why did you leave?" Eric asked, not needing to skirt around his questioning like Kyle had, and not knowing how to either.

"For the same reasons as you, I guess," Kyle answered after a long exhale. "To start over, to find somewhere peaceful and scenic where I could hear myself think. Maybe then I'll find something that makes me happy…"

"You weren't happy in New Jersey?"

Kyle's shoulders straightened and he sat up in his chair.

"You're suddenly curious," he smirked, eyebrows raised.

Eric's cheeks flared again, and he was suddenly very aware of the residual dampness on his skin.

"Well, you said we're sharing now," he replied with a shrug.

"Fair enough," Kyle nodded. "I was comfortable in New Jersey, I guess. Even though I had lived there all my life I couldn't exactly see a future there, you know?"

Eric furrowed his eyebrows.

"And you see a future here?"

A tad hypocritical of himself, Eric realised, to be asking such a question, since he had fled his hometown too for this place. But Eric had never known busyness, and traffic, and opportunities like Kyle had. The latter, Eric knew, lighted the way for countless shining futures. And what was here? Besides mountains, and a main street, and a forty minute drive to Denver?

"I think so," Kyle replied, unoffended. His liberal gaze wandered over Eric when he added, "it's too soon to tell."

Eric had supressed a shiver when Kyle's verdant eyes scanned him, poured over him like a gushing, icy spring.

"Well, do you, uh… have any idea what your future will be like?"

"What do you mean?" Kyle returned, eyebrows knitted together.

"You know, do you see anything at all?" Eric clarified. "An awesome career? Or maybe a wife? Kids?"

"An awesome career…" Kyle nodded, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled wide. "That sounds good. As for marriage, well, the first one wasn't exactly promising so-"

"You were married?"

Granted, Kyle being married wasn't the most disturbing discovery he could make, but Eric still felt slight disappointment at the news, like a far-off, impractical illusion had been shattered.

"Yeah, but it didn't last," Kyle explained dismissively, shaking his head. "We were young and stupid."

"How did you meet?" Eric asked flatly.

"At her birthday party, we were both fifteen," Kyle answered with a faint, reminiscent smile. "My dad was a lawyer and so was hers, and our parents thought it would be great if we were introduced. They thought we would hit it off. I remember my mom pointing her out to me, and she was sat on the couch, biting her lip as she read some Victorian novel, completely oblivious to the fact her birthday party was happening around her, and she had curly hair like mine that was hiding her face. Her name was Rebecca and I fell in love with her immediately.

"I sat next to her on the couch and we spoke for the rest of the evening. I felt pretty proud that I was the only one who could distract her from her reading. I did most of the talking but it didn't bother me. We were pretty much inseparable after that, and I hoped that with every weekend movie and every coffee date after school she was falling for me. I mean, our parents thought we were dating and we let them believe it so we could laugh about it later. It hurt though, to joke about it with her, because it made me believe that actually being her boyfriend was a ridiculous idea. So, yeah, I was losing hope a little."

"But she started to change," Kyle continued, a crease in his brow like he was still puzzled. "She started to wear make-up and crop tops and miniskirts and, come on, as a hormonal sixteen year old boy I thought she was even more beautiful when she looked like that," he paused when Eric snickered softly. "The most beautiful girl I had ever seen… but she was still the same person underneath, she was still so aloof and closed off and… persuasive. She had me sneaking out, and going to stranger's parties and even though it was strange, it was exciting too. It made me wonder if this person Rebecca transformed into would date me, since I was starting to doubt if her usual self would. Maybe I was naïve, but I gave it a shot and it worked. We were walking home from this party and I told her how I felt and she kissed me and that was it. We were officially boyfriend and girlfriend."

Kyle's smile, infectious and endearing, reflected on Eric's face as helplessly as the heavens on a still day. But then he sighed.

"Two years later she got into Stanford – she was ridiculously intelligent – and moved to the other side of the country and I stayed in New Jersey for college. We kept dating but… long-distance relationships are tough. I could feel her growing disinterested in me, and that irritated me and scared the shit out of me in equal measures. A part of me wishes I had ended it as soon as the relationship grew cold, because deep down I knew that's what we both wanted but… I'm a romantic," Kyle confessed, with an air of apology. "I don't give up, especially when there's a spark, you know?" The look in Kyle's eyes was suddenly imploring, that potent emerald seeping into Eric's frosty disposition. "Whether that spark is in a particular person, or the both of us. I never let it go to waste because that spark could ignite something incredible. I'd hate to feel like I'm missing out on something special."

Any previous disappointment or disillusion Eric felt floated away, pesky and trivial, because the way Kyle spoke about romance was genuine and important. And although Eric's seclusion had rendered him inept at reading others, everything in his being sensed that Kyle meant every word, and it sounded so sweet. It had elicited relief in Eric's heart and had prompted a warmth to permeate in his chest. Strange, forgotten, but pleasant, and all evoked by Kyle's tender admission. Romantic Kyle drawing out reclusive Eric, it all sounded so sweet.

"So I kept trying, and on my twenty-first birthday my parents bought me plane tickets so I could fly out to California and see her," Kyle continued. "And at the airport she looked so happy. It was like this huge weight had been lifted, that perhaps I'd been worrying about nothing. We had an awesome time together, and her and her friends suggested we drive to Las Vegas and elope, so we did."

Kyle shook his head and a derisive laugh escaped his mouth.

"I was twenty one, still in college, and married. It didn't seem real. And my parents were absolutely devastated, not to mention confused. But I told them that I would get my degree and Rebecca and I would work everything out. And I believed that, I thought that trip would be a turning point and things would be different, but it was just like before. Then it was my turn to be devastated. We tried to talk about the future, our plans after college, but those conversations never went anywhere. I didn't want to move to California, and she didn't want to come back to New Jersey. After a while we just stopped trying, and then eventually we decided to divorce and split up after eight months of marriage and five years together."

"And that was it?" Eric asked. "You never heard from her again?"

"Oh, we're still friends," Kyle replied. "Her parents are friends of the family so it was impossible not to see each other. It sounds like a cliché, but we're better off that way."

"What happened then?"

"I graduated. Majored in math," Kyle replied. "I landed a job in an accountancy firm, worked there for ten years, and hated it. It was boring, and the only reason I chose math as my major was because I was good at it, and it was practical, I could make a living out of it. I realised then that I hadn't really found a passion for anything, or pursued anything I was interested in, and it seemed too late by then. I guessed that's why I stuck at that awful job for so long, because it was the sensible thing to do. I wasn't a kid anymore. I had been divorced, for Christ's sake!" He laughed, before shaking his head. "But it wasn't all that bad. When Rebecca and I broke up, it felt liberating to be on my own after all those years of being a couple. I mean, I loved Rebecca and we had some fun but it was cool to be single. It was new and it was challenging, it's _still_ challenging. Although it felt like I was doing everything in reverse, you know, experiencing dating as an adult for the first time despite having been married. But I would never have learnt how to be on my own, or met some great people… hell, I probably wouldn't have discovered I liked guys as well as girls if I had still been with Rebecca," he smiled. "So I guess, while I pride myself on being persistent and determined, sometimes you have to know when to quit, when to let go. When I was with Rebecca, I thought my future was decided for me, that I had it all figured out, but I was wrong and that's okay, because now I'm here in this whole new place. You don't always have to know what the next phase is."

"But you're not going to be a cashier forever, right?"

"No," Kyle laughed, warm and ambitious. "I just needed a job to pay the rent and put food on the table. I'm hoping to go back to college, find one of those passions everyone is supposed to have."

"Sounds like you've got at least some of your future figured out…" Eric offered with a shy, encouraging smile.

"Yeah, but when I moved here I didn't expect to be caught in a snow storm," Kyle joked. "At least I made a friend out of it though…"

Kyle's foot tapped Eric's under the table and it was only then did he realise Kyle was smiling gratefully at him. Eric remembered the cards in his hand.

"Did you have your turn?" He asked.

"What?"

"Th-the game?" Eric manged to get out, and tapped the cards with his index finger. "Rummy?"

"Oh, yeah, shit, I forgot about that," Kyle chuckled, slightly flustered. "I think it's my turn."

Eric remained silent, letting Kyle pick up a card from the stock. However, the grin that lit up Kyle's face when he added the card to his hand indicated one thing…

"Rummy!" Kyle exclaimed, before laying his cards out on the table.

"I had three Jacks, and a five, six, seven, eight of diamonds!" He boasted.

Eric nodded, humble, and dropped his own cards in defeat.

"Congratulations…."

"Wanna play another round?" Kyle asked, still grinning.

"Yeah, sure," Eric smirked.

Kyle was beaming when he collected the cards and began shuffling them with his usual showmanship.

"I'm guessing your dad taught you how to shuffle like that, huh?" Eric asked, braver now.

"Yep," Kyle replied. "Your dad taught you how to shoot, and my dad taught me card tricks."

Eric nodded to himself, before he admitted, "I needed that seven of diamonds…"

"Sorry about that," Kyle smiled. "Let's just hope that's all you'll be needing from me."

Eric was starting to doubt that.

"Thank you for telling me about your dad," Kyle said. "I appreciate how difficult it must've been to talk about him."

Eric nodded, Kyle's gratitude regarding such a sore subject felt like antiseptic on a still raw wound.

"You're welcome," he replied.

"You know this is the most you've said to me?" Kyle pointed out. "Ever?"

"It is?" Eric asked, playing dumb. He was aware, but he didn't think Kyle would be.

"Yeah, so far..." Kyle grinned.

And his confidence, his unusual, endearing faith, made Eric chuckle and roll his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we have it, finally some backstory! There'll be a little more to come in that department as the story develops. As always, thank you for reading!


	6. Next To You

The morning following their afternoon of card games had felt like the remnants of a vivid dream, the events of the previous day had exploded with the passage of time and particular moments had lodged themselves into Eric's memory. He had won only a single game of Rummy, losing twice. After their rather intense and unguarded conversation (during which Eric revealed more to Kyle than he ever thought he would to anyone, even to himself out loud), they didn't talk much, nor did they feel the need to. Any silence that fell upon them was gentle and barely noticeable, while Eric provided Kyle's quips and dry remarks with warm chuckles and shy, tight smiles that were becoming looser. When they went to collect their dry clothes from the fireplace, Kyle had chosen not to change out of the shirt and sweats Eric had loaned him, instead eating his dinner and sleeping in them. Eric had been puzzled, thankfully, since his confusion managed to ground and quiet the inexplicable, delighted fluttering of his heart.

What made the afternoon feel like a hazy, wondrous recollection was Eric's disbelief that it occurred in the first place. Neither he nor Kyle were expecting to be snowed in, of course, neither of them assumed Kyle's visit would last longer than a couple of hours. But on that first white, terrifying morning, an irritable and wary Eric had been quite content to stay out of Kyle's way; to just feed him and offer him a place to sleep and nothing more. He had been quite happy to not even talk to Kyle, and his previous attitude made the idea of conversing with him even more repellent.

But Eric had greatly underestimated that pull, that persistent curiosity that made him invite Kyle to the cabin in the first place. He had temporarily forgotten how bright Kyle shone in Eric's bleary, stubborn eyes, happy to hibernate in his idyllic isolation for the rest of his life. Never did he imagine including Kyle in his daily activities, viewing him more than just an inconvenience to his lifestyle, and he certainly never imagined that he would confide in Kyle. He thought nothing of letting Kyle into his house, showing him his guns, his preserves… but revealing the details of his past, his insecurities, it had frightened him. Kyle had sensed it, Eric could tell. But while it was a nerve-wracking process, once Eric had opened his mouth it all started to feel so easy. Kyle didn't care that he may have sounded ineloquent, skittish, jumbled, and bitter. He had just listened and tried to understand. For that, Eric was grateful.

When Eric had walked downstairs, Kyle had only just woken up. He was sat on the couch, rubbing his eyes, his curls wayward from tossing and turning in the night. When he had offered Eric a sleepy 'good morning', those foggy remains of yesterday in Eric's memory all slotted together and clicked, injected Eric's day – and possibly every other day now that Kyle was here – with clarity. Something had changed between him and Kyle now, not momentous or visible, but it felt like progress. Something that was foreign to Eric in his life of comfortable stagnation, but it seemed that Kyle had burrowed into his core and was urging him, using that incredible, compacted strength to shift Eric's perception, to make the Earth move. Commendable, admirable, and in the stark, powdery sunlight that had streamed through the living room window, Kyle also seemed pretty magical.

The rest of the day was pedestrian, however. Eric left Kyle in the cabin, determined to make the most of what remained of hunting season and the break in the weather. But he only acquired a mountain goat that had strayed too far from its home. At Kyle's request, Eric had allowed access to whatever books were on the tiny shelf in the living room. They housed no literary classics, no gripping drama, no fiction of any sort… just instruction manuals and dog-eared guides. But when Eric returned to the cabin Kyle seemed quite immersed in a book about plumbing installation.

They made conversation over dinner, and Eric wondered if Kyle had felt that dynamical shift that had perturbed him upon waking. No doubt Kyle had forged many relationships with others in his busy, city social life, be they professional, platonic, or romantic. Perhaps he had built up immunity to such a stirring shift, having felt it so many times and accepted it as just a natural part of knowing someone.

Regardless, Eric had chosen not to address the issue because he didn't know how to, and so their dinner continued undisturbed.

"It's a beautiful night out, huh?" Kyle asked, drying a plate that Eric had just washed.

"What?" Eric replied, before he noticed that Kyle was looking out of the window. He joined him, soaking in the bruised cobalt sky and the piercing, silver stars. "Yeah, sure is…"

"You can see practically every star…"

"There weren't many in Newark?"

Kyle chuckled. "Oh, there were stars alright, just not the kind you'd find in the sky."

Eric snickered in response, returning to the dishes in the soapy water.

"But there were so many lights…" Kyle continued, still ensnared by the nightscape. "I didn't pay too much attention to what was behind the clouds."

Again, Eric didn't reply, he merely waited, now distracted by Kyle's lilting, thoughtful voice rather than the scene outside his window.

Kyle cleared his throat and remembered the wet plate and the cloth in his hand. "You're not too tired, are you?" He asked.

"Uh, no, I guess not…" Eric answered, a dent in his brow. "Why? Are you?"

"No, no I'm not tired, in fact… I'm kind of in the mood for something sweet," Kyle replied, sliding his gaze to Eric as coolly as a croupier slides poker chips across a table. "You know, like a dessert."

"A dessert?" Eric asked, returning Kyle's gaze.

Kyle nodded with an innocent smile.

"Like what?"

"Hot chocolate? If you still have some?" Kyle replied. "I was thinking maybe you could make some hot chocolate, and hang out downstairs for a while?"

Eric nodded, his throat suddenly felt like it was lined with sandpaper. It was difficult to speak.

"Yeah, o-o-okay…" he managed to get out.

"Awesome," Kyle replied brightly.

Magical, even when the sun had shrunk into the night sky.

* * *

"What do you think my favourite movie is?"

"I don't know…"

"Come on, just guess!"

"Alright… _Dead Poets Society? The Breakfast Club?"_

Kyle shifted on the couch, legs folded and the orange glow of the crackling fire illuminated the side of his face.

"Why did you pick those movies?" He asked, his eyes too were searching for an answer from Eric.

"I don't know, they just seem like the type of movies you'd like," Eric replied with a self-conscious shrug. "They have messages, and points, and they're kinda preachy…"

Kyle arched his eyebrow. "You think I'm preachy?"

"N-n-no! _They're_ preachy, you're not preachy, you're… thoughtful," Eric decided on, the tension sliding off his shoulders now that he had found a suitable word to describe his guest. "Yeah, thoughtful. You seem like the type of person who'd want to think about a movie after they've watched it, what the meaning was, what the message was."

Kyle nodded, reviewing the answer.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he smiled.

Eric suffocated his relieved sigh, glancing at the fireplace and their empty mugs on the coffee table, drained of hot chocolate.

"You should," he replied.

"But you're wrong, about the movies, I mean," Kyle added. "While the movies you chose were great, my favourite movie is actually _True Romance_."

Eric's eyebrows drew together and he asked, " _True Romance?"_

"Yeah, you know, Patricia Arquette? Christian Slater?"

"I've never seen it. Sounds a little corny though."

"Corny? It's awesome, man!" Kyle exclaimed, eyes glinting with both indignation and enthusiasm. "Yeah, it's a love story, but a really badass love story, it's an action as well as a romance. It was written by Quentin Tarantino for Christ's sake! It's got a great story, it's well-acted, it's dramatic, it's funny, and that's why it's my favourite movie."

Eric smirked, more entertained and intrigued by Kyle's excitement than the movie itself. "Fair enough."

"Okay so, your favourite movie, I'm thinking…" Kyle studied the living room as he thought, as if the dimmed, plain room would give anything away. "Something masculine, really manly. An action movie, or a western perhaps?"

Eric chuckled and shook his head.

"Not a western," he replied.

"Alright, I'm going to guess… _Rambo_? Or maybe _Platoon_?" Kyle's eyes widened then and he exclaimed. "Oh my god, _The_ _Deer Hunter!_ "

Eric snorted and shook his head again. The warm shadows of the fire on his face were rapidly heating his cheeks.

"No, I mean, I like those movies sure-"

"I kinda had a feeling you were into war movies," Kyle interjected.

"But they're not my favourites."

"Not even _The Deer Hunter_?" Kyle smirked.

Eric rolled his eyes, completely free of irritation or malice.

"Very funny…" he murmured, but the smile spreading across his face threatened to betray his sarcasm.

"So what _is_ your favourite movie then?" Kyle asked.

"I have a couple, I watched a lot of movies growing up," Eric replied. "I guess my top three would be _Alien_ , _Grease-_ "

"Wait, wait, you just accused my favourite movie of being corny, but your favourite movie is _Grease_?!" Kyle cut in, laughing incredulously. "What the hell?!"

"It's a classic!" Eric argued.

"Sure…" Kyle replied, rolling his eyes with a playful smirk.

"You didn't let me finish," Eric pointed out. "My third favourite movie is _Terrance and Philip: Asses of Fire_. Remember that?"

"Oh my God, yes! I loved that movie!" Kyle replied. "Did you watch their TV show too?"

"Yeah, it was my favourite," Eric smiled, reflecting Kyle's enthusiasm.

"Mine too! My mom hated it though, she said it was vulgar and obscene and she tried to stop me from watching it," Kyle replied. "But I would watch it at my friends' houses and we snuck in the theatre to see that movie about ten times because it was R Rated. My mom was head of the PTA at my elementary school too and she tried to make it so that we weren't allowed to wear _Terrance and Philip_ t-shirts and stuff, she even tried to get it banned from our movie theatre! She was in the paper and everything."

"Really?" Eric asked, thoroughly amused by the image of an eight year old Kyle delighting in his forbidden movie.

"Yep. But she was always in the paper for something," Kyle answered, sighing. "She's always been somewhat of a frustrated activist."

Eric chuckled, knowledge of what Kyle's mother was like cast a clarifying light on Kyle's personality; stubborn, persistent, and relentless.

"So did you sneak in with your friends to see that movie too?"

Eric shook his head, and coughed into his fist to clear his throat. He never had many friends growing up, not exactly out of choice but his attitude did seem to ward off any kids who tried to forge a friendship.

"No, I uh, begged my mom to take me," he replied. "She didn't think it was that funny, but as long as I was happy she didn't care."

"Your mom sounds pretty cool," Kyle remarked.

"I don't know about that…"

_More like walked all over by her perpetually pissed off, annoying son._

"What should we do next? " Kyle asked. "Favourite colours?"

"Alright," Eric replied.

"I'm going to say… red?"

Eric nodded.

"Yes!" Kyle cheered, before he trailed his gaze over Eric and commented, "You do seem to favour a red plaid shirt."

"Is that bad?" Eric asked, pulling at the red plaid shirt he was already wearing, a symbol of his supposed predictability.

"No, they suit you," Kyle quickly reassured with a cool, sincere smile.

"Thanks," Eric replied, smoothing down his shirt now.

"What do you think my favourite colour is?"

"I don't know… green?"

"Yes! We both got it right that time!" Kyle beamed. "Alright, so… favourite animal. What do you think mine is?"

"A dog?" Eric guessed. "You seem like a dog person."

"Nope, more exotic," Kyle replied. "I like elephants."

"That's cool," Eric nodded, tucking that piece of information away, hoarding it as if it were just another bright jewel to add to Kyle's glittering treasure chest.

"Yeah, well, I think they are too," Kyle smiled, before his already focused eyes attempted to delve deeper into Eric. "But you know, I have no idea what your favourite animal is…"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, do you even like animals?"

Eric snickered to himself and ran a hand through his hair.

"Alright, I kind of have the feeling it would be an animal you come across a lot up in the mountains so… Bears?" Kyle guessed. "Deer? Racoons?"

Eric was unable to contain his laughter at that last one.

"Well, what then?" Kyle chuckled, laced with defeat.

"Cats," Eric revealed.

"Seriously?" Kyle asked, eyebrows raised before he contemplated Eric's answer. "Hmm… I never considered you a cat person before. Guess that's why you shouldn't make assumptions about people, right?"

Eric made a small, barely audible noise of commitment before he scratched the nape of his neck. He glanced at the sinking night outside his window, and then at the shrinking fire and wondered how long he and Kyle had been playing this guessing game.

"Can I ask you something?" Kyle asked, fussy and without patience for their previous light-heartedness. "Without offending you?"

"Sure, go ahead," Eric replied, sounding more confident than he felt.

"Okay – putting aside my own views for a moment – why do you like hunting?" Kyle asked. "What's the appeal of it? I'm curious."

Eric blinked, unprepared for the question he never really assumed had an answer.

"Oh, uh, I guess because it reminds me of my dad," he replied.

"I figured," Kyle nodded.

"But also because it's always given me a feeling of control, especially living here," Eric continued, once again analysing and dissecting his closed-off life in front of Kyle, no matter how messy or opaque. "I like being self-sufficient, and hunting, and like, living off the land makes me feel powerful, like I'm in charge and have control over… not my destiny, but, like, my future, my life. And yeah, we all have control I guess, but I can _feel_ it, you know? I can see it every day and when you tie yourself to other people or compromise your independence that control wanes a little. And that scares me because… I know what it's like to feel powerless. Whenever my dad ignored me or cancelled our plans to meet up and do something outside of our hunting trips it crushed me, and I felt weak a-a-and humiliated. But when we came here, and he put a gun in my hand, I felt like I had that control back. And I could feel it rushing back to me. Now, I mean… my survival depends on it," Eric looked at Kyle then, and Kyle nodded. "And it's a good way to let some steam off too, I guess, to feel closer to my dad…"

Eric's gaze had drifted to his lap then, as if that's where his words lay, floating between him and Kyle, yet both of them were unharmed. Here, they were safe and protected, the storm rendering the outside world, past, present and future inconsequential. Free but sheltered, liberated and unscathed.

"I can't believe I've told you all this…" Eric murmured.

"It's okay, Eric, I understand-"

"No, I mean… everything," Eric said, returning his gaze to Kyle. "What I told you yesterday… I haven't talked about my dad in years."

Kyle blinked, mouth set in a firm line. He opened his mouth to speak, prematurely attempting a response.

"I, I, I'm sorry," he replied. "I won't ask anymore-"

"It's not a bad thing," Eric assured. "It's just strange, how I can talk about these things with you."

"Oh…" Kyle nodded, feeling brave enough to shift a little closer to Eric. "Then should I be sorry?"

Eric gulped, his perplexed stare fixed on Kyle.

"Not at all," he replied quietly.

* * *

Winter continued to engulf the cabin. The plummeting temperatures common for the time of year only exacerbated the fractious weather conditions. Eric, with his twelve years of experience, of adaption, with his cosy bedroom upstairs was used to the vicious chill. Kyle, on the other hand, was not.

Increasingly when Eric awoke and went downstairs he saw Kyle curled up and shivering on the couch, the blanket pulled up tightly under his chin and his chattering teeth disturbing his slumber. Perhaps this was a belated observation, once fended off by Eric's initial dismissal and disdain of Kyle having to sleep on his couch in the first place. Wondering whether or not his previously unwelcome house guest was cold had fallen low on Eric's list of priorities, not a part of his begrudged responsibilities as a host. Now, he was frowning at the sight that was greeting him every morning, a dull, frustrated ache in his chest as he pondered how he could make the situation better, more comfortable for Kyle.

"So if you hated your old job so much, what did you want to do instead?"

Retiring to the living room after dinner was becoming somewhat of a ritual for Eric and Kyle now, a new activity that had wordlessly slotted itself into Eric's routine. An activity not bound by necessity, but borne out of enjoyment. Eric spent so much of his day out in the cold, trudging through the snow, navigating his way through the conifers, and while he loved the feeling of brisk, icy air in his lungs, the frozen solitude of the mountains, he was also becoming fonder of (and looking forward to), his evening conversations with Kyle.

Eric was a creature of pursuit, a skilled hunter. Possessions, animals, relationships were to be acquired, not earned, taken not given. So for Eric to be able to sit on his couch, with the fire tending to itself, and listen to Kyle talk about every aspect of his life; his past, his family, his likes, his dreams, with minimal coaxing from him was both jarring and deeply satisfying in a way he never thought he would crave.

"Hmm… I thought of being a teacher for a while," Kyle answered. "I used to tutor my cousins in math, and I enjoyed it. I mean, I love kids. I know that when we were talking about my future the other day, I wasn't so psyched about the idea of getting married but I would still like a family. Even if it means not getting married. I guess it's not exactly a package deal anymore. But yeah, I've always been great with kids."

Another aspect of Kyle's personality revealed to Eric. Just like when his dad brought him up here the first time, just like when Eric arrived here on his own and roamed the mountain uninhibited, he was fascinated by the discoveries he was making on his couch.

"So when you go back to college, you'll train to be a teacher?" Eric asked.

"Maybe," Kyle replied with a shrug. "A youth worker sounds like a sweet job, because I would really be helping kids who need it most. I'd be supporting them and encouraging them, really making a difference to someone's life. I would love to do something rewarding and… I can't think of a better job than that."

Eric smiled almost wryly, softened by an endearment that had been achieved over how many hours he and Kyle had spent together. Kyle's desired profession was so typical, so obvious, and so perfect for him.

"I think you'd make a great youth worker," he confessed, quiet enough to reassure that shy part of himself that Kyle wouldn't be able to hear his genuine remark.

But he did, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"Thank you, Eric," he said softly.

Eric pursed his lips, shrinking in the light of Kyle's gratitude.

"It's getting late," he pointed out. A non-sequitur but better than nothing.

"Yeah, we should probably call it a night," Kyle agreed with a sigh.

Eric nodded. "Okay…"

"Okay…" Kyle echoed.

Eric was unsure whether if Kyle's response was accidental or deliberate, or if his awkwardness was contagious, but Kyle's short snicker and persistent smirk answered his question.

"So… good night…" Eric said with a small smile.

"Good night, Eric."

Lifting himself off the couch, Eric brushed down his faded jeans and offered Kyle one last smile which he reciprocated. Leaving the living room and ascending the stairs, Eric was reminded of the image he was sure to see tomorrow morning, powerful and affecting enough that he was incapable of taking another step. At least forward. Turning around he went back downstairs and entered the living room where Kyle was plumping a cushion.

"Kyle?"

He flinched at the sound of an unexpected voice, but turned to face Eric.

"Yeah?"

"You're not… uh… you're not cold, are you? Down here?" Eric asked, lingering by the doorway.

"Oh, well, a little," Kyle replied, studying his makeshift bed before he looked at Eric with a reassuring smile. "But it's fine."

"Are you sure?" Eric asked, knowing Kyle wasn't telling the truth but unsure of how to extract it from him.

"Totally," Kyle answered with one, firm nod.

"Alright…" Eric acquiesced with a tight, defeated smile. At least he tried.

Clearly, that justification wasn't enough for his budding conscience once so self-serving. Only his right foot had touched the bottom step before he was heading back into the living room.

"It's just that…"

Kyle flinched again, startled by the abrupt visit but didn't question Eric.

"It's just that…" Eric sighed, before he revealed, "My bed is warmer."

Kyle arched a puzzled eyebrow. "Yes?"

Eric fidgeted and scratched his scalp.

"You could sleep in it," he said, hoping he sounded casual. "If you want."

"But then where would you sleep?" Kyle asked.

"I don't know…" Eric was careful not to huff, although he was growing irritable. "Down here, I guess?"

Kyle's shoulders slouched, as if Eric's clumsy generosity was exhausting.

"Then you'd be cold," he pointed out with a grateful smile. "Seriously, I'm fine, Eric, don't worry about me."

Eric sighed. "Fine…"

"Yes," Kyle stressed. "Now go to bed."

Eric nodded, reluctantly shuffling out of the room before a compromise dawned on him. It seemed crazy and scary, but was the only visible solution to both their problems.

"Unless…"

"What?"

Eric took an encouraging breath.

"You sleep with me… Not like that!" Eric quickly amended, flushed and his fists balling at this spectacular start. "I meant share my bed with me! That's all I meant, I promise…"

"You sure?" Kyle teased, brows still knitted.

Eric rolled his eyes and smirked, face still warm. "Yes…"

"It's just that… you're such a private guy," Kyle said, serious now and concerned. "I don't want to feel like I'm invading your personal space. I'm already sleeping on your couch. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

A valid point. One that had already occurred to Eric.

"It won't be uncomfortable," he assured, though he wasn't entirely confident.

"Really?" Kyle asked, standing up with his arms folded across his chest.

Eric nodded, no longer wanting to give Kyle half-truths.

"Alright," Kyle caved in. "Thank you."

Eric too smiled gratefully, a part of him knowing that Kyle accepting his offer also implied a trust that very often goes uncommunicated. Kyle followed Eric upstairs and into his bedroom, waiting as Eric fumbled with the lamp by his bedside in the dark of the room.

"I've never been in here before," Kyle pointed out as he walked into the now lighted room, surveying it. "It's nice."

"Thanks," Eric replied.

Kyle stopped in front of the bed, peered a little closer at the thick, dark brown fur above the mattress.

"Is that a pelt?" he asked.

_Shit, forgot about that…_

"Yeah, it's warmer than a blanket," Eric tried to explain, he didn't want Kyle to be deterred.

But his sceptical expression wasn't exactly promising.

"Try it," he said, throwing back the pelt to reveal the mattress beneath.

Kyle sat on the mattress, his hands stroking the plain, white sheets before he moved to lie down as stiff as if he were riddled with arthritis. He tugged tentatively at the pelt, pulling it over his chest and Eric could see him deflate, his inhibitions leaving him.

"Shit, you're right!" He chuckled, making himself even more comfortable. "You know, I may actually have to sleep in my underwear."

Eric blinked, surprised at the revelation and he gulped.

"Don't you do that already?"

"Yeah, at home," Kyle replied. "But if I slept on your couch in just my underwear I'd get hypothermia."

"Right…" Eric murmured, but the image of Kyle, tangled in sheets, stretching, well-rested and content, and clad only in his underwear as morning sun ogled him through the window refused to dissipate from his mind and he didn't know why.

So fixated was Eric on the image and its presence in his head that he hadn't noticed Kyle had sat up and was now removing his t-shirt. Eric nearly jumped, for this was completely unexpected and he wasn't prepared in the slightest. He rubbed the nape of his clammy neck and decided that his wardrobe was a far more interesting sight than a shirtless Kyle… but it was nowhere near as tempting. His shy, distracted gaze kept returning to Kyle, and every small dose of his freckle dusted shoulders, taut, pale stomach and small, pink nipples was heady and intoxicating.

Kyle then slipped his hands under the pelt to unbutton his jeans, his tongue prodding at his lips as he wriggled out of them, discarding his clothes in a pile on the floor. Eric, meanwhile, was still reeling and now his already rushing mind was left to ponder the fact that Kyle was lying in his bed in his boxers and he never assumed that thought would be both so exhilarating and terrifying but it was. He couldn't help but wonder what he had let himself in for…

"Aren't you going to get in?" Kyle asked.

A lump in his throat, Eric nodded, his mouth sealed shut as he sat on what was now his side of the bed. He looked to the ceiling and pursed his lips as he fumbled with his jeans, thankful that there were no physical indications he was incredibly worked up. He quickly threw the pelt over him and lay there rigid, trying to keep some distance between him and Kyle.

"You know what, Eric, this is pretty cosy," Kyle said beside him.

Eric exhaled quietly then, realising that Kyle was comfortable now and that he should be too. Or at least try to be…

"You're welcome," he replied.

"Good night," Kyle smiled, before he closed his eyes and nestled his cheek into the pillow, preparing for sleep.

"Yeah, good night," Eric returned, shutting off the lamp beside him.

* * *

_Eric hadn't always been alone in the cabin._

_Within the first few weeks of living there he had unofficially adopted a cat. Alone, bereft of company both material and social, and quite frankly, scared, he had driven his faithful pick-up truck into town to buy some supplies and in the parking lot spotted a frail, shivering kitten. Her grey fur was matted, her pale blue eyes glimmered, and her mewl was as weak and desperate as she was._

_His fondness for felines had made Eric curious enough to take a detour from his truck to the curb on which she was perched. There wasn't a collar in sight, so she wasn't somebody's pet. Her mother must have been a stray, Eric had figured, and unnamed had disappeared along with the rest of the litter. Sympathy had floored him in the middle of the parking lot, but he had smiled at the realisation that they were somewhat kindred spirits. Both loners, both trying to adjust to their new, suddenly independent lives, both lost in their own way. Eric had scooped her up carefully, shushing her half-protests and ignoring her feeble scratches, and took her home._

_It was an impulsive decision immediately, made by his wayward heart. At that time he barely had enough food and shelter to look after himself, let alone a kitten. Everything was a work in progress, but his silent, loyal companion was just the support he needed. She quickly became attached to him, sleeping on his stomach in the night and circling his ankles and purring while he was working. He never gave her a name, for he barely spoke to her. He would mutter to her occasionally when he presented her with leftovers from his meals, or when his large hand petted the space between her ears but he never felt her presence needed to be dignified with a name. She was just there, day and night, and for that he was grateful._

_As the cabin transformed into a home, and as Eric was learning and adapting to a lifestyle he would soon come to relish, she too was becoming stronger, healthier, and happier. She had instilled in him a sense of responsibility, sufficiency, of the importance of taking care of oneself. She was an agile, inquisitive shadow of the orphan she had once been, and in the summer Eric loved taking her into the woods and watching her jump and prowl and hunt for the smaller, squeaking creatures that scurried through the undergrowth._

_She was eight when she got sick and Eric had been terrified even at the first sign something wasn't right. He had always been possessive, and clung to his cherished things, even if those things had autonomy that Eric was helpless to fight or prevent. He would cry and scream until he was dizzy if someone took away his favourite toys, but if he ever found himself growing closer to a person or an animal, becoming attached to them, coveting them, he knew he could not throw a tantrum or ultimately get his way in the end if they disappeared from his life. Even if he would try in every which way he could to ensure that wouldn't happen. Hence he worked hard to avoid such a fall, maintained a safe, comfortable distance so he couldn't lose, couldn't crash, would no longer have to sate or fill that deep, empty pit with distance, with guns, with solitude when really the only solution was what had been severed and taken from him in the first place._

_Eric had eventually taken her to the vet although he didn't have any insurance whatsoever. And the vet confirmed what he had been dreading. That there was nothing they could do, that her condition would only worsen and it would be kinder to put her to sleep. But Eric, overcome by grief, had stubbornly declined to let them touch her, do anything to her. She was his cat and if she had to die then she would at least die at home, surrounded by the snow and the conifers, not by strangers in a clinical room._

_He left it a couple of weeks, of course. As if he could obtain a victory just by waiting, hoping, digging his heels in and clinging on by his fingernails just a little bit harder. And fate would intervene, take pity on the poor animal and her heartbroken owner and allow her to make a full, miraculous recovery. But Eric knew he could count on miracles as he much as he could count on permanence. And one day, when he came home from hunting and saw her hobbling to greet him, with bleary, resentful eyes, shaking as much as she had when he first found her, he knew he had to do the one thing he hated most… let her go._

_Just like when she was a kitten, Eric had very delicately picked her up and tears pricked his eyes when he felt her tiny ribcage heaving. She hadn't been able to keep anything down. He took her to the backyard and set her down in the snow, even though she only walked a couple of steps before collapsing in the powder. At least she could feel the cold beneath her paws one last time, take one final look at the forest. It had always captivated her, but she had been disinterested and exhausted that day, probably willing for her body to just give up already._

_Vision blurred and hands shaking, it was the first time Eric had ever hesitated taking a shot. He thought he vaguely understood then, why some people had a problem with watching animals die. When the shot rang out, Eric flinched as if a bullet had torn through his own flesh, releasing tears that fell onto the snow and bled his apology._

_He had kept his eyes closed, squeezed shut as if it would drown out the reality of what he had just done. But he knew he couldn't let her lie there, bleeding and freezing forever. So he had slowly made his way over to her although his movements felt weighted, cumbersome. He had not been able to look at her as he picked her up, too distraught and proud to destroy himself further with the image. But before he had buried her, only a few feet away from where she had died, he closed her eyes. Two large fingers had gently pulled her lids over her eyes, like drawing the curtains on a blank, overcast day. Eric had coped with the ordeal by treating it like a cautionary tale. As if he hadn't learned from when he was sixteen, when another body had been buried._

_Look what love does to you. See how your heart betrays you. Realise what the reality of loving and caring for something leads to… loss, disappointment, abandonment, the most insidious, lingering hurt, and loneliness. Full circle, back to square one, unreachable, unbreakable, but at least you're safe-_

Eric opened his eyes, the wispy threads of slumber had snapped and he had landed in the morning, the daylight glowed through the papery curtains and Kyle was right in front of him, sleeping peacefully. His chest rose and fell steadily enough to calm Eric too, the curls at the crown of his head had been flattened by the pillow but the ones that framed his forehead fell into his face. His mouth was slightly agape, soft breaths tumbling from his lips.

The memory of his beloved pet soured the scene, the lesson he had supposedly learned diluting his appreciation somewhat. But Kyle wasn't a pet, an animal, a possession; he was a person and surely different rules applied to him, right? Especially a person as vibrant, fiercely independent, and with such an admirable air of togetherness as Kyle. He was sincere, compassionate, unwavering, and not fickle like so many people Eric had known in his life, what he had thus far perceived every person to be. But Kyle was like nobody he had ever encountered before, a quality that Eric had been fixated on from the moment they met. It had been a short time, but given the circumstances they had found themselves in, Eric only felt the smallest glimmer of doubt that he could trust Kyle not to fade from his life, that he was now woven into the fabric of it. Because Kyle cared about him too, everyday Eric was becoming surer of it, warming to it like a song that grows on you after repeated listens.

Eric was unable to move as these thoughts raced around his head in pursuit of a concrete truth, mostly due to the fact that Kyle was mesmerising. Yes, Eric had initially found him attractive when they first met but his personality and time spent around him only enhanced his good looks until Eric realised he was the most beautiful person he had ever met, right down to his core. Perhaps it was something he would never have discovered if they hadn't been snowed in together? At least the storm was good for something…Anxiety knotted in his throat then, quickly sinking to his stomach, gut-wrenching disappointment.

The storm would subside, the snow would melt, Kyle would be able to go home and Eric would be alone again. Up until recently, Eric would've been delighted by the prospect, but he resented such a notion now for it only drowned him in dread. Although he hoped Kyle would never vanish from his life completely, he also knew (always knew) that Kyle couldn't stay up here forever, wouldn't want to, for this cabin and Eric couldn't provide him with everything he needed. The outside world would always win, and compared to all its people and opportunities, Eric would be easily forgettable. He would pale next to Kyle's hopes and dreams and plans, until he was as white as snow, as invisible as a ghost.

And for the first time in his adult life, Eric didn't want to be invisible. He wanted to belong, he wanted to be Kyle's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek, how was that? A little background/character/relationship development in less than 7,000 words. I hope you enjoyed and I'd love to know your thoughts! Thank you for reading!


	7. Anything To Make You Smile

Eric had now spent so much time with Kyle that he was able to easily detect his low mood, sense when something wasn't quite right. But Kyle wasn't impassive like Eric. Although skilled in the arts of socialising Kyle hadn't quite mastered eluding people to the state of his emotions like Eric had. Therefore any change in mood was never nuanced or subtle, it swooped down and crashed like a natural disaster, and although Eric had been able to ride out such cyclones before, equip himself with suitable provisions, there was still one equaliser not in his possession.

And that was the ability to ask Kyle how he was feeling.

It was not that Eric didn't want to comfort Kyle, console him – he wasn't even nervous of the prospect anymore – it was just that he didn't know how. He didn't even know how to initiate such a vulnerable conversation (Kyle was usually the instigator of those), let alone what the right things to say were, or how he should behave during. Distractions usually proved quite effective, as Kyle was keen to be an active and not idle house guest even when he was feeling rather low. But even that strategy was failing. Three unsuccessful days later and Kyle was still sluggish and quiet. Depressed. Eric's heart creaked when he pondered whether Kyle was exactly that, and thudded helplessly like drowning Morse code when he panicked they were going back to square one. What a waste, after so much progress… Eric was determined for he and Kyle to stay firmly where they were; somewhere content and promising. No going back.

When Eric had left the cabin to go hunting only a couple of hours earlier, Kyle had been lying on the couch, staring at the burning logs of wood. But the forest had been quiet, eerie, chillier than usual, and deserted. The animals who did dare to tread onto the stark white escaped the barrel of Eric's gun anyway, he was too distracted and weighted with thoughts of Kyle to aim or even care that he missed. Not only was he at a loss of how to help Kyle, but what could be causing his listlessness in the first place.

And so he returned to the cabin empty-handed, not that it was a big deal since he could whip up a dinner from what was in the pantry anyway. Eric always assumed he had a natural flair and talent for hunting, the numbers and mounted animal heads on the wall spoke for themselves. But in all his life he'd never had a distraction as all-encompassing as Kyle. Not even his dad, because he never needed Eric for anything, let alone his help. But Kyle relied on him, depended on him, and Eric felt like he knew him well enough to know that he had weaknesses, something he could never have said for his late father. His dad had maintained enough of a careful, cool, imposing distance for Eric to know he was stronger, smarter, and more capable than him. In other words, he hadn't needed Eric the way Eric needed him.

Before Eric could take his winter jacket off and hang it on the back of the door, he peered into the living room, noting that Kyle hadn't greeted him like he usually did whenever he returned to the cabin. He then saw that Kyle was sleeping on the couch, blanket draped over his knees and hand tucked under his cheek. Eric dropped his gaze and removed his jacket, hanging it on the nook nailed to the front door. He then quietly made his way into the living room, his boots making the softest of thuds against the floorboards. He sat on the couch, eyes trained on Kyle but the dipping couch cushion didn't wake his guest. Eric didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, whether he should wake Kyle or not. He was starting to realise then the importance of social etiquette.

"Hey…" Eric murmured, gently nudging Kyle's shoulder.

"Huh?" Kyle grumbled, bleary eyes fluttering open and struggling to focus. "What?"

"S-s-sorry," Eric said, immediately regretting his decision. "I didn't know if I should wake you."

"No, no it's fine," Kyle replied, voice gritty. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes. "Did you shoot anything?"

"No… no, there were hardly any animals out today," Eric answered. "I think it's a sign the weather is about to take a turn for the worst again. Animals can sense that stuff."

"Oh…" Kyle froze then, lowering his arms and studying the living room, searching for a response. "Oh… that's um…"

_Just spit the question out!_

"Kyle, are you okay?"

Kyle blinked, his confused and confronted gaze landing on Eric. "Why do you ask?"

Eric sighed, unprepared. "I don't know. You've just… seemed down these past couple of days."

Kyle nodded, shrinking back into his seat. Caught out.

"Right…" he muttered, before he raised his voice and his eyes to Eric. "It's noticeable, huh?"

A helpless smirk played across Eric's lips.

"A little," he admitted.

An apologetic smile shone through Kyle's sheepishness.

"It's not something I did, is it?" Eric asked.

"What? God, no!" Kyle replied, eyes flashing warily at the idea of a misunderstanding. "It's just… you know its Thanksgiving soon, don't you?"

Eric's eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah? "

Kyle shook his head, as if dismissing what had been troubling him these past few days that had something to do with Thanksgiving. Maybe he was trying to dismiss the holiday altogether.

"I've been thinking about my family a lot and… fuck, I really miss them," Kyle confessed. "I wasn't going to spend Thanksgiving with them this year anyway, because I'd only just moved here, but I thought I would at least be able to call them or Skype them and now I can't, being up here… I'm so sorry, Eric, I probably sound like an ungrateful dick right now because you've been so great. I'm just really homesick. And to make matters worse, I haven't spoken to them in nearly three weeks and no doubt they've heard about the storm and stuff on the news and they're probably worried sick about me and I can't tell them I'm okay and…"

Kyle buried his head in his hands then, smothering his worries, his distressing words before they could gain momentum and topple him. Eric just sat and stared, clueless and anxious that any response would be the wrong response, only making matters worse. But he also knew that sitting there silent, waiting for a solution to suddenly strike him, wasn't helpful at all.

"Kyle…"

Eric rested his large hand on Kyle's back, and the sight was more awkward and clumsy than comforting.

"The storm won't last forever…" he added.

Kyle nodded and lifted his head, sniffling and his eyes were shining sadly.

"I, I know it won't," he replied, he shot Eric a tight smile. "Thanks, Eric."

His hand was still on Kyle's back, and the contact consisted of a gentleness Eric had no idea he was capable of. Still, he snatched his hand away, deeming the gesture no longer appropriate although Kyle hadn't protested.

"I feel kind of woozy from napping… from being upset…"

Eric snickered and smiled good-naturedly.

"Is it okay if I have a shower?" Kyle asked. "To wake me up?"

"Sure," Eric nodded.

And for the first time in days Kyle beamed at him. He got up off the couch and left the living room, and Eric's gaze resisted the urge to follow him. Speaking of resisting… Eric hadn't paid any attention to Thanksgiving in years, and had been quite happy to continue his tradition of ignorance. But if it would make Kyle happy, he supposed he would have to get into the festive spirit. Anything to make Kyle smile.

* * *

Four days later, Eric wasn't just waking up to another plain, ordinary day. No, he had woken up to what all his hurried preparations had been waiting for. He had woken up to Thanksgiving.

But Eric hadn't felt so festive and enthused upon waking. He had grumbled at the sound of his shrill alarm clock and squinted at the yawning sunrise. To ensure this day went smoothly, Eric had set his alarm extra early so if there were any mishaps and blunders, Kyle wouldn't be there to witness them. Nothing could ruin Kyle's day, Eric had vowed to make sure of it. Kyle had stirred, but Eric quickly shushed him and Kyle – wanting sleep rather than an explanation – mumbled something indecipherable and rolled over. Getting dressed as silently as he could, Eric had then reported to the kitchen where his duties as a good host (and hopefully an even better friend) were waiting for him.

Three hours later and Eric was still as busy as when he had started. Although he had mentally crossed plenty of tasks off his to-do list, the point still stood that said list was a long one. Eric thought back to his Thanksgivings from childhood, how his grandma and mother would start shopping weeks in advance and operate like a giggling, finessed machine when the day came and dinner was to be served. As an observer, it had all seemed so simple to Eric, effortless, and his mother and grandmother wouldn't have let him believe it was any other way. Now here Eric was, stressed and sweating, with his arms and feet aching. At least his mother and grandmother had experience on their side, as well as teamwork to ease the pressure.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Eric had been so preoccupied with cooking that he hadn't heard Kyle come downstairs. He turned to Kyle, saw him lingering by the threshold to the kitchen, eyes roaming the crowded worktops and foggy windows with wonder, with hope, with that spark Eric had been trying to ignite for days.

"Thanksgiving," Eric replied, wiping his brow. "Remember?"

Kyle rolled his eyes, his smile growing. He stepped into the kitchen proper, slowly, with trepidation as if any sudden movement would shatter the illusion, the dream that Eric had made come true and Kyle would wake up disappointed.

"Yeah, but… I thought you didn't…"

"Well, I do now," Eric said, wanting to completely eradicate Kyle's doubt. "I have company."

Kyle's smile crinkled gratefully, overwhelmed and believing.

"Oh wow… Eric..." Kyle pursed his lips, one of those rare moments where he was inarticulate. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Eric replied, the warmth permeating his chest calmed his stress, soothed his aches, because it was all for Kyle and it had to be worth it. "You'll have to help me though."

Kyle beamed. "With pleasure."

* * *

Once they had prepped everything it was well into the afternoon, and from the stuffy kitchen the blanketed outside and the stinging, fresh air had never looked so inviting. All Eric and Kyle needed was an excuse to venture into the great outdoors. It would be unwise to go for a walk, to journey into the forest when the snow was so thick and there was food in the oven. Eric remembered one of his keepsakes from home then, buried in his closet. A small, squidgy _Nebraska Cornhuskers_ football. Kyle may not have been able to watch the annual games on TV, but he could still play a game outside. Kyle had accepted Eric's invitation, and had bundled himself up warm while Eric rooted around his closet for the football he swore he had.

"Are you sure we can do this?" Kyle asked, hands on his hips, wading in the snow.

"Yeah, why not?" Eric replied, a few feet away from Kyle and gently tossing the football up in the air and catching it.

"I've just never heard of two people playing football..." Kyle explained, fiddling with one of the flaps of the hat he had loaned from Eric (that he could keep for all Eric cared, it suited Kyle better).

"It's touch football. Have you ever played touch football?"

"No, I've played regular football. "

"Well, I have… when I was a kid, but still."

"And it was you and one other person?" Kyle asked, arching a sceptical eyebrow.

Eric sighed. "No, there were a couple of guys on our teams. Just trust me, Kyle, I know we can do this."

Kyle rolled his eyes, staring up at the cotton wool sky before he returned to Eric with an exasperated smile on his face. "Alright, but you're going to have to explain the rules to me."

"Okay, first off, no tackling," Eric began. "Secondly, it's two hand touch-"

"What does that mean?"

"It, uh, means that if you wanted to take the ball from me you'd have to touch me with both hands, on my back or my… ch-chest…"

Eric hoped that he was far enough away from Kyle so that his blush wasn't noticeable, or at least that it was cold enough for such redness to be easily excused. Perhaps Eric hadn't thought this entirely through, what the game entailed, but despite his apprehension the thought of Kyle's hands on him felt too exhilarating to dismiss.

"Oh… Alright…" Kyle replied, his words possibly attempting to distract Eric from his own flushed cheeks, clashing with the curls that were peeking out of his hat. "What about the huddle?"

"Um, I guess I'll just throw the ball, you try to catch it-"

"And then you try to take it from me?" Kyle cut in wryly, smirking.

"Yeah…" Eric chuckled sheepishly, before he shook his head. "This is stupid, Kyle, we don't have to play-"

Kyle's eyes widened then, flashing an encouraging green. "No, no, it sounds fun, easy… nothing like a little competition to kill some time, right?" he added with a soft chuckle.

"Right," Eric agreed.

"I've got to warn you, although football isn't my speciality I will take this seriously," Kyle grinned. "I'm very competitive."

"Well, same," Eric warned and Kyle smiled knowingly.

"So… touchdowns?" Kyle asked, surveying the area.

"Oh, yeah, uh, I guess… if you make it to that conifer by the truck it's a touchdown," Eric replied.

"Cool," Kyle smiled.

"Are you ready?"

"Sure," Kyle replied with a nod.

Eric stepped back a little, preparing to throw the ball and his muscle memory recalled the games of touch football he had played in gym class, and those games his school coach had roped him into because according to his teacher he'd have been 'perfect for the team.' His reminiscent thoughts were quickly diverted to thoughts of Kyle, how cute he looked as he prepared himself for the game, his stance clumsy in the powder.

"You know, we assumed this would be easy but trying to run in this snow should be a fun challenge," Kyle remarked.

Eric chuckled. "Yeah, if you say so."

Kyle just laughed and shook his head.

"Okay, ready?" Eric asked.

Kyle nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

"One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi!" Eric called before he threw the ball.

Kyle caught it easily, swiftly, and began to run to the conifer. But trudging through the snow it was impossible to be at all graceful or speedy and he nearly fell a few times, huffing each time he did, laced with irritable growls. But when Eric's laughter escaped from his mouth Kyle joined in. As competitive as they both were, it was hard to take the game totally seriously.

With outstretched arms and spread fingers, Eric had nearly touched Kyle's back but Kyle made it to the conifer just in time.

"Yes!" Kyle cheered, throwing the ball in the snow.

Eric grinned, panting.

"I suppose you should get to throw it now, huh?" He asked.

Kyle shrugged, a smug smile on his face. "It only seems fair…"

Kyle pulled the ball out of the snow and Eric chuckled, rolling his eyes before they resumed their positions.

"Alright!" Kyle called. "One, two, three!"

Eric caught the ball when Kyle threw it, his legs aching already as he ran to the conifer but he was determined he would get there. Even when he heard Kyle falling behind him he didn't look back – apparently the only part of Eric unaffected by his fondness for Kyle was his competitive streak. Eric didn't cheer like Kyle had when he scored; instead he exhaled his victory and smirked in self-satisfaction.

When he turned around, he saw Kyle trudging behind him, sulking and brushing off the clumps of snow on his clothes.

"You know, this is less a game of touch football and more like tag with a little football thrown in," Kyle commented.

"Somebody's a sore loser," Eric teased.

"No, I'm not!" Kyle argued, his cheeks growing redder. "And by the way, if this was basketball I would be kicking your ass. Just saying."

"I'm sure you would," Eric replied.

Again, they resumed their positons. However, Eric threw the ball too high and it sailed over Kyle's head. It was anybody's game now. Their wide eyes met briefly before they both ran to claim the ball, but since Kyle was closer, naturally he was the one who seized it, tucking it under his arm as he ran to the conifer. Miraculously, Eric was able to touch Kyle, his fingertips skimming his coat but however light it still constituted a touch and so Eric was able to snatch the ball.

Eric could taste the touchdown like a snowflake on his tongue but before he could make it Kyle tackled him and caused the ball to fall out of his possession. Eric's face felt numb from its impact with the snow, and some flakes clung to his wispy, patchy beard. He lifted his gaze and the conifer was a blurry, green smear in his eyes. He was incredulous and pissed off for about a second before he registered Kyle's warm, heaving chest flush against his back, his hot, threadbare breathing in his ear and dewy on the crook of his neck. He gulped and supressed a shiver, not wanting Kyle to breach, not ready for this to end.

Kyle's head turned, his curls comfortably ticklish, and he began to laugh, the vibrations sending sugary jolts down Eric's spine. Infectious, Eric began to laugh too, resting his head in the snow because it seemed like the only thing that could cool him down during this strangely intimate moment.

He rolled on his back slowly, so as not to startle Kyle but Kyle didn't mind, still flushed and laughing and beaming down at him; a piercing, sultry sun glowing through the thick, stern clouds.

"That was cheating!" Eric complained, although he was unable to stop chuckling. "You're not allowed to tackle!"

Kyle's eyes widened, indignant.

"I didn't mean to!" He argued, his soft smile belying his sincerity. "Honestly, I just went to touch you but I guess I don't know my own strength."

"Oh my God…" Eric murmured, rolling his eyes.

"It's true!" Kyle chuckled, before raking his gaze over Eric contemplatively and shifting on top of him. It was nerve-wracking. "Are you mad because I was able to take you down?"

"No!"

"Whatever…" Kyle muttered, eyes brimming with playfulness.

Eric snickered, hollow, because he was too distracted by Kyle's tempting, unpredictable gaze. He realised then, that however comfortable Kyle's weight felt on top of him, however right Kyle's warmth felt flush to his, he couldn't let himself enjoy it too much, couldn't let himself get carried away when he was unable to fully read Kyle's emotions. Yes, Eric could detect his mood, but he didn't know if his feelings for Kyle were reciprocated (since so much of his own feelings had yet to present themselves), and even if he had the slightest inclination he wouldn't believe it. What would Kyle want with somebody like him anyway?

"Uh, we should probably check on dinner…" Eric mumbled.

Kyle blinked and nodded wordlessly for a couple of seconds.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he finally replied, gaze avoiding Eric as he lifted himself up.

They exchanged tight, awkward smiles, not giving anything away; too stubborn, too scared to do so. Eric retrieved the football and they made their way back to the cabin in silence.

* * *

"Oh my God…Eric…"

Kyle was reclining in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as if looking at any leftover food would make him burst. His chair was pulled far away from the table too, and his now completely empty plate.

"You liked it?" Eric asked, snickering at the remnants of the dishes he and Kyle had spent hours on, now totally devoured.

"It was delicious!" Kyle replied. "I'm so full, I couldn't eat another bite!"

"Really? Because we've got a huge pumpkin pie for dessert."

Kyle sat up then, eyes wide. "What?!"

"I'm kidding. Actually there's, uh, no dessert," Eric explained sheepishly. "I had nothing to make pastry with so-"

"Eric, it's fine. More than fine, it's fantastic," Kyle assured with a gentle smile. "You've done so much today and I've had a wonderful time. Really."

"I'm glad. Thanks," Eric replied. "And thanks for helping me too. I think I'd still be cooking if it wasn't for you."

Kyle's smile turned humble and he pushed his fork around the rim of his plate. "Well, then, you're welcome, I guess."

Although Eric hadn't made a Thanksgiving meal worthy of the ones from his childhood, this evening's dinner had been a certified success with his limited resources. But any insecurity he'd had about the meal deviating of that from a regular Thanksgiving feast, was quietened by the fact that this hadn't been a normal Thanksgiving. Instead of turkey they'd had pheasant that Eric had spotted in the woods a few days previously, the vegetable accompaniments were any he could find in the greenhouse, and while he hardly had the ingredients to do so, he knew he couldn't make a Thanksgiving dinner without stuffing. Kyle had assisted him in that, and although Kyle professed to be a substandard cook, he proved to be a great help to Eric so that the task wasn't too overwhelming or time-consuming. Whenever Eric despaired that he didn't have a certain ingredient, Kyle would be there to reassure him that it was no big deal and there was bound to be a substitute.

Honestly, this day would never have happened if it weren't for Kyle. Not only would Eric have gone out of his way for anyone else, but Kyle's encouragement and co-operation is what kept him steaming ahead instead of trashing his kitchen in a panicked rage. But Eric already had a way to express his gratitude, a token to represent what or rather, _who_ he was thankful for (fitting for the holiday), not just for today but practically every day since they had met, even if Eric had been too dumb and sheltered and proud to have recognised it sooner.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," he said, getting out of his chair.

"Okay," Kyle replied. "I'll help you clear this all away when you get back."

"Cool, thanks," Eric smiled, his hands shaking before he had even left the room.

As he ascended the stairs his heart pounded in time with his feet and as soon as he reached the top he made his way to his bedroom. When Eric entered his room the sun was setting and had stained the sky pastel, the blueish pink and purple shades were trapped in the white curtains, glowing in the melted sun and reflecting the hues on the walls. He got on his knees and in the shadows managed to snatch the small wooden elephant he had carved from under his bed. He had been working on it for the past three days in secret, lingering in the shed after his hunting trips so Kyle wouldn't get suspicious. He had used up some of the firewood to make it, but he could always get more, whereas he was confident he'd never meet another person like Kyle. He was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of person, like a celestial event that had touched Earth and wasn't so blinding and utterly aware of their mystical perfection that they didn't allow mere mortals to gaze upon them.

Eric kept the little elephant tucked behind his back as he walked down the stairs, his fingers flexing nervously and his palms were damp.

"Hey," Kyle smiled when he noticed Eric had returned to the kitchen. He turned his head to look at him and Eric's apparent, nervous demeanour put a dent in Kyle's brow and curiosity in his eyes. "You look like you're up to something. Why are your hands behind your back?"

"It's a surprise," Eric revealed shyly.

"More?" Kyle asked, raising his eyebrows.

Eric nodded, before he took a small fluttering breath.

"I know that presents aren't traditionally given on Thanksgiving, but since this isn't a normal Thanksgiving I wanted to make you one," he explained.

Kyle blinked, eyes shining.

"You made a present for me?" He smiled. "That's so sweet!"

"Here," Eric said, handing Kyle the elephant. "Happy Thanksgiving. You said that elephants were your favourite animal so…"

While Kyle studied the gift, speechless, Eric slowly sat down observing him all the while. Kyle was completely transfixed on the humble, little elephant as if it had been crafted out of gold, or diamonds, or perhaps even ivory itself. His mouth was slightly agape and his gleaming eyes polished the present with all the wonderstruck astonishment that one giving a gift would want their present to be received.

"Eric, I…" Kyle whispered, before shaking his head and laughing warmly, disbelievingly. "I can't thank you enough! For everything you've done but especially this great day and this amazing, thoughtful gift I… I love it.!" Kyle turned his attention to Eric then, lips pursed and eyes brimming. "And I love you!"

Kyle placed the elephant on the table before suddenly throwing his arms around Eric, his chair balancing on its two front legs. Eric initially froze when confronted with that warmth he had missed so much from this afternoon, and Kyle's arms clasped tightly around his neck. It was their very first hug, and Eric was so lost in his reverie that he wasn't even reciprocating it, although his recent dreams had included Kyle being in his arms.

So Eric snickered at Kyle's enthusiasm, his adoration for his gift. He wrapped his arms around Kyle and tentatively traced his spine with his fingers that now felt weightless. Although Kyle had said he loved him, Eric didn't let himself jump to conclusions, terrified of assuming the wrong answer and the destruction it could lead to. But as he held Kyle, he realised he didn't care. He didn't care in which way Kyle loved him, what role Kyle wanted Eric to play in his life, as long as he was present.

There was one thing, however, that Eric did know for sure. All those feelings that had hid, scared and unsure, in the dark were now flooded with clarifying light. Light, Eric was sure, that emanated from Kyle and now he was so close there was no escaping his glow. Eric had fallen, impossibly and completely, in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I have never played touch football in my life (I played a game of touch rugby once in primary school and was awful). And although I researched it, I was still confused about the rules, especially when only two people are playing it. So I guess when I say Eric and Kyle play 'touch football' in this I'm using the term loosely. Anyway, besides from that messy scene, I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	8. Between the Lines

Although secretive and unrequited, Eric's realisation that he was in love with Kyle felt as exhilarating and terrifying as though his feelings had been returned. It was his first love – of the romantic variety at least – and Eric prayed that it wouldn't make him devolve into a giggling, fawning schoolgirl. Although he supposed he had little control over whether that happened. And that was the scary, unnerving thing about love. Eric, who craved control, needed control and couldn't do without it was paralysed at the thought of it slipping through his fingers, of handing it over, spellbound, so a curse of attachment and dependency could be cast on him. He was already doomed.

Rapid heartbeat, gasping lungs, and nausea accompanied his petrified paralysis, and his obsessive pondering of his inevitable fate was like relentless punches to his gut. But one reminder always calmed him, unavoidable sunlight tearing apart the neurotic storm, and that reminder was that he wasn't dealing with just anyone; a handsome face or an aloof disposition. No, he had fallen for Kyle. Helplessly, he realised, how could he have not fallen for him? Not even the iciest heart could remain frozen under Kyle's warm, genuine gaze. He had thawed out Eric's heart after all, injected his once bitter, cynical perspective with belief.

Eric believed that Kyle cared about him, enjoyed his company, and _loved_ him in a platonic manner. The proof? Kyle had listened with sympathy to Eric when he discussed his past, he was eager to partake in otherwise mundane household chores with Eric, had told Eric he had loved him when he had given him his Thanksgiving present (Kyle took the elephant with him pretty much everywhere, stroking its wooden skull absent-mindedly with a tiny, thoughtful smile).

And despite his insecurities that he had possessed for so long that he began to fear they were ingrained into the fibre of his being, Eric believed that he meant something to Kyle, that Kyle deemed him as somebody worth holding onto. For better or worse, horrendous snowstorms or mild, beautiful springs. His only debilitating doubt that made his heart wither with every still day free of a flurry or shower, was how long Kyle would be staying here with him. He had to return to his life below the mountain eventually, and Eric was concerned with how he would cope in Kyle's absence.

Today, however, brought another kind of panic and dilemma. And that was the howling shower that had greeted Eric and Kyle upon waking, the heavy, sprinting snow scratching at the view outside the bedroom window. But they needed something for dinner that night, so against Eric's better judgement after he had breakfast with Kyle he went upstairs and prepared to venture outside. The only thing alleviating the sinking trepidation in Eric's stomach was the hunger that was sure to gnaw at it later on when he and Kyle had no food.

"Hey, where you going?" Kyle asked from the living room, he had obviously heard Eric come down the stairs and head to the door.

"Just out," Eric replied, zipping up his coat.

Kyle made his way quickly into the hallway.

"Hunting?" He asked, noticing the rifle by Eric's feet. "Really? In these conditions?"

"I don't have much of a choice," Eric explained, once he had finished wrapping his scarf around his neck he reached for his rifle. "The season's coming to an end and I need to make the most of it."

"But is it safe?"

"Sure, I'll be fine," Eric answered, not looking at Kyle as he said it. He believed that he would at least make it home okay, but whether he was successful in finding any animals was another matter. But he'd have to try.

Kyle, meanwhile, was unable to hide his concern. He was frowning, arms wrapped tightly around his chest, and his wide, questioning eyes were imploring Eric to reconsider.

"Kyle, seriously, I'll be okay," he assured, chuckling softly. "How's rabbit for dinner?"

Kyle nodded, smile trembling. "Great…"

"I'll be back soon," Eric said, meeting Kyle's eyes this time.

"Alright," Kyle murmured.

Although they had hugged recently, and despite sharing a bed, Eric was still cautious to initiate any physical contact with Kyle. But if Kyle wanted to touch him, hold his hand, or hug him, Eric would gladly accept. He had abstained from such closeness for so long, hadn't desired it from anyone else, but now he was curious and yearning for such sensual affection. But Eric still didn't know how readily Kyle would welcome his touch and so refrained. Instead of offering Kyle a comforting hug before he left, he shot him a tight, encouraging smile.

* * *

Kyle's concerns turned out to be valid ones, Eric had severely underestimated the weather. The wind whistled hauntingly, forebodingly, through the branches of the trees and the snowflakes fell in merciless troops, bombarding and impairing Eric's vision and weighing him down in the rising powder. The animals were intelligent enough to remain tree-bound, den-bound, nest-bound and burrow-bound, not wanting to advertise themselves to predators though even the creatures at the top of the food chain were hiding from the vicious chill. The king of the chain was still stalking the forest however, while his subjects were in hiding from a crueller, more unpredictable tyrant whose rein was set to continue for some time.

The snow had wiped the mountain clean, barren, and set Eric further into the forest. A terrible mistake as it meant home and Kyle were further and further away. Finally, Eric spotted a brave young buck and his quest for dinner was at last complete. It was almost dark by the time Eric returned to the cabin, the sky was a dull, frigid indigo and the wind was snoring, wispy snowflakes floated in the air.

Gutting the rabbit was fast and simple enough, and he bundled it in a blood-stained knapsack before making his way back to the cabin. When he entered the hallway the warmth from the generator and the log fire pressed up against him like an over-familiar friend, his face already pinked from the frosty temperatures outside.

"I'm back!" Eric called, alerting Kyle to his presence.

He set the knapsack down on the floor to remove his coat and scarf now doused with melting snowflakes and some in the process of seeping into his clothing. He was taken aback when Kyle stormed into the hallway and even more stunned when Kyle, a wound up ball of anger, panic and confrontation, flew into his unsuspecting arms. The force of the collision caused Eric to lose his footing, but his lack of balance didn't perturb Kyle, he hung on regardless.

A couple of minutes later, Kyle pulled away, fingers boring into Eric's upper arms and his eyes were gleaming, blinding, casting a worry-stricken shadow over his face.

"Where the hell have you been?!" He demanded.

"Uh-uh-out…"

"You've been gone for hours!" Kyle exclaimed, frantic. "I told you not to go, didn't I?! I told you the weather was too bad! Jesus, you could've frozen to death! What the fuck were you thinking, Eric, huh?!"

Suddenly, Kyle grabbed Eric's face and pulled him closer with hot, shaking hands. Eric had never been so close to Kyle before, and for the first time he noticed the freckles hibernating on the bridge of his nose, the tiny wayward hairs of his cinnamon brows, and the hysterical, frightened tears ready to fall from his lashes.

"I- I- I don't know…" Eric whispered, just as breathless as Kyle was. "I'm sorry, Kyle."

Kyle's breathing slowed, hands still quivering and eyes still glittering with the promise of tears. He pursed his lips, absorbing Eric's words, and soon his hold on Eric's face softened, no longer tight and accusatory, his touch melted into tender relief. His eyes roamed Eric's face as if a part of him doubted his presence, if he had returned to the cabin at all, if he was indeed sorry for making Kyle fret so. At least that's what Eric assumed… but when Kyle's gaze, his thoughtful, unpredictable, bluer-than-Eric-realised gaze, lingered on his lips he wondered if Kyle was thinking of something else entirely. And suddenly that unbelievable, thrilling, too-good-to-be-true possibility clouded Eric's mind.

But the heady, intoxicating clouds dispersed when Kyle released Eric's face and wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in his chest with a whimper. Eric was frozen, his arms stiff and his hands hovered over Kyle's back, still whirring. He felt a hot wetness on his shirt, registered Kyle was crying and folded him up in his arms immediately, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"Oh God, I was so scared!" Kyle cried, lifting his head, showing his flushed, damp face. "I was terrified, Eric…" he whispered, nuzzling into Eric's chest again.

"I know," Eric replied earnestly, holding Kyle closer. "I know, but I'm here now…"

Kyle nodded but his tears were still coming thick and fast.

"It's alright," Eric soothed, resting his cheek on Kyle's curls. "It's alright, Kyle…"

They stayed in the hallway for an indeterminable amount of time, both reeling in each other's arms.

* * *

Finally breaching from their hug had been a slow, careful extraction. Their breaths had been shallow, counted, almost as if oxygen was in limited supply on the mountain, as if they were being pursued by the same, formidable beast that wanted to devour them, swallow them whole. And Eric had wondered how long it would be before he collapsed, exhausted and resigned himself to being prey, when he had always been the hunter.

They hadn't met each other's eyes either. Kyle had rested his glassy, contemplative gaze on Eric's chest, face still flushed and dewy with tears. His hands that had been at Eric's back migrated to his arms, and his fingers had slid down his biceps as faint as raindrops until they reached his elbows, his fingertips rolling over the edge like tender beads of water. Eric, with Kyle's tears still drying on his shirt, had hoped his shivers elicited by Kyle's touch weren't noticeable under his sweater and his gaze had wandered absentmindedly over Kyle's head, occasionally glancing at him but feeling like a voyeur, a phantom, and a part of him had wanted to press Kyle close to him again, as though they could achieve answers without asking questions. And yet another part of him was scared of the answers, wanted to stumble upon them rather than root for them when perhaps they weren't ready to be found.

They had made little conversation at dinner that night, with Kyle too lost in his thoughts and Eric too intrigued to break his reverie. Maybe Kyle, articulate and considerate, would find answers before Eric did. They would be in better hands, Eric thought, if that were to happen. Both of them exhausted, and with most of their evening lost to their embrace, they had forfeited their usual post-dinner talk in the living room, retiring to bed. But Eric had been unable to sleep, and as he pondered and contemplated and kept himself awake, he had stared, transfixed, at Kyle's back to him; his curls darkened in the shadows of the room, the elegant carvings of his shoulder blades, his lean muscles, his spine, how the moon rays filtered through the curtains and rendered Kyle's bare skin incandescent. He had looked sublime, and Eric realised he was drowning, in over his head for the wonderful man lying next to him, who had fallen into his arms, his bed, his routine.

Morning had brought no answers, only stolen, desperate glances and probing, analytical silences. It had been a calmer day than the previous one, the tumultuous conditions now bottled inside Eric's heart, so it seemed. He ventured into the woods, to get some space and clear his head but the latter exercise proved unsuccessful.

Eric had not been greeted with a hug when he returned, only a mischievous smile that put him less at ease. Dinner was still torturously quiet, but Kyle had been eager to hang out in the living room afterwards, and although his smile from earlier suggested to Eric he should've been cautious, at least it was normal. At least it was routine.

"I'm curious about the TV," Kyle suddenly announced.

Eric arched his eyebrow and glanced at the television he hadn't watched in weeks.

"What about it?" He asked.

"Does it work?"

"Yeah, it works," Eric replied, nodding. "When the weather is a little calmer, at least."

"Hmm…" Kyle's eyes roamed the walls, the crackling fire, Eric sat next to him. "Maybe we should see if it's working now?"

Eric's brow creased and he asked, "Why?"

"I don't know, today has been pretty mild," Kyle shrugged. "It's worth a shot, right?"

Eric sighed at Kyle's persistence. "I can tell you right now it isn't going to work."

"So what if it doesn't?" Kyle asked, standing up. "No harm in checking…"

Grabbing the forgotten remote from the windowsill, Kyle then tried to turn the TV on with Eric peering from behind Kyle's back that was currently blocking the screen. After a few, wheezing starts the TV was brought back to grainy, muffled life.

"Yes!" Kyle cheered, spinning around. "Told you!"

The electrical lines were obviously thawing out, the snow melting on the weathered satellite perched on the roof the cabin. The scratchy static bristled against Eric's heart like an electric shock, a particularly vigorous nip of friction, reminding him that the weather would gradually improve and that the rangers would call with good news (or bad news, depending on perspective), and Kyle would be gone. It was the question Eric feared most; how limited was his time with Kyle?

Eric offered him a defeated smile, but it placated Kyle and he returned to the couch, sitting closer to Eric this time. A different kind of anxiety swelled in Eric then, a different kind of friction sidled up to his heart. It was alluring and intoxicating but mysterious and intimidating.

"Hey, this is _Ghost_!" Kyle exclaimed.

"Wh-what?" Eric asked, blinking.

" _Ghost_?" Kyle asked, arching an eyebrow and pointing to the movie. "You know, one of the most romantic movies of all time, _Ghost_?"

"Yeah, I've seen it," Eric chuckled, rolling his eyes, before squinting at the fizzing picture. "I just didn't recognise it right away…"

"And it's only just started!" Kyle said excitedly, fidgeting next to Eric to make himself more comfortable.

"You like this movie?"

"Yeah, do you?" Kyle returned, shifting his attention to Eric.

"Sure, I just didn't think it would be your thing."

"I'm a sucker for romance, I guess…" Kyle sighed, before he smirked and eyed Eric up and down. "And this is a great movie to watch with a date…"

Eric gulped, worried that he had misheard… or had heard Kyle loud and clear. He didn't know what the preferable option was.

"A d-d-date?" He asked. "I'm not your date."

"I didn't say you were," Kyle replied, eyes on the movie but his smirk remained and was still meant for Eric.

"Wait, what?"

"You're the one who assumed you were my date," Kyle pointed out.

"I… I-I didn't mean…"

Eric could feel his temperature soaring, his throat shrivelling. Not only was he mortified by his responses and how they only encouraged Kyle to lead him deeper into this strange labyrinth, but extremely confused too.

_Is flirting supposed to be this hard to interpret? If he's flirting with me at all. But why the hell would be flirting with me?!_

"Forget about it, Eric," Kyle said coolly, with a smile in his voice. "Let's just watch the movie."

Eric didn't respond, staring at Kyle as though he were a chalkboard covered in intricate formulae. But then it dawned on him that Kyle was releasing him from this uncontrolled repartee of paradoxes and was relieved. He smirked to himself, exasperated, and rolled his eyes.

"Alright," he mumbled, though Kyle was too engrossed in the movie to have noticed.

The film was still watchable, although the picture was difficult to decipher on times, and Eric was enjoying the comfortable silence. In fact, it had lulled ( _fooled_ ) him into thinking that perhaps he was overthinking things, making a big deal out of Kyle's close proximity to him and his lingering looks and his (supposedly) flirtatious comments… until the pottery scene. Seeing two people touch each other, relating it to whatever brief, tentative contact he and Kyle had come into over their time together, and locked in intimate gazes made Eric feel like he was about to burst into flame any minute; dumb and wide-eyed.

He shifted on the couch like Kyle had, hoping to find comfort, but instead he had given Kyle an invitation to come closer, their shoulders touching now. Kyle cleared his throat while Eric tried to subdue his increasingly erratic breathing.

"You ever wanna try that?" Kyle asked.

"Huh?!"

"That?" Kyle gestured to the screen. "Pottery foreplay? When you first watched this movie did you ever want to try that? Weren't you a little curious?"

"I, I guess…" Eric muttered, he swallowed and his throat clung to whatever saliva was in his dry mouth. "I don't remember. Were you?"

"Totally!" Kyle laughed. "I was, like, fourteen when I saw this movie and I thought this was the hottest scene in any movie I'd ever watched. Just look at it! The closeness, the romantic song, Patrick Swayze shirtless, their hands on top of one another… I mean, come on, that piece of clay is so obviously phallic-"

Eric laughed, ducking his head to hide his warm face.

"It's so erotic and sensual, don't you think?" Kyle continued with the tiniest of grins.

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," Kyle replied, before raking his gaze over Eric. "I thought this scene might've appealed to you... you're pretty great with your hands, after all."

Eric's eyes widened.

"Oh…" he whispered, before clearing his throat and saying louder, "right…"

The corners of Kyle's mouth twitched, weighed down with effort. He returned his attention to the movie, the rapturous love scene, and sighed.

"We don't have to watch TV," Kyle said, picking up the remote and switching the movie off.

"Wh-what else did you have in mind?" Eric asked.

Kyle bit his lip in response, eyes shining with intention. He lifted himself from the couch and exited the living room, leaving Eric's gaze to trail behind him, his heart racing after him too.

"Remember you said I could take a look around the cabin while you were out?" Kyle asked from the hallway.

"Yeah?" Eric's eyebrows were drawn together in confusion.

Kyle returned to the living room with a small box in his hands and Eric suddenly regretted his decision to let Kyle sift through his personal belongings. Before it hadn't mattered, Eric had very little to hide or be ashamed of, and he trusted Kyle. But perhaps showing Kyle these things rather than sending him off on some inadvertent quest to find them would've been the better alternative.

"Well, I was snooping around under the stairs and I found this box," he announced.

Eric recognised it immediately, and the memories it contained.

"That's the, uh, box I took with me when I left home…" he admitted.

Kyle's lips parted, assuming his words would come easily, but all he could do was nod.

"Oh, right, that explains the, uh…" Kyle started, obviously not prepared for Eric's reaction. His response was fractured and jumpy. "There were lots of… what I'm guessing is personal stuff. I didn't rummage for too long, but this caught my eye."

Kyle set the box down on the couch and opened it, pulling out a gleaming CD in a clear cover.

"Oh, that…" Eric snickered and rubbed the nape of his neck. "Yeah, that was my mom's. It's a CD of her favourite songs. She used to play it over and over again in the car. I took it to remind me of her."

Kyle's smile creased and he cradled the CD as if he had a residual bond with it.

"That's really sweet, Eric," Kyle whispered.

"I haven't listened to it in years," Eric said, and with good reason to. It was all he had listened to when driving to South Park all those years ago. Not only were the songs incredibly worn out, but had accompanied his bouts of homesickness.

"Really? Because you have a stereo in here," Kyle replied, smirking. "Don't think I haven't noticed it collecting dust in the corner."

Eric glanced at the ancient stereo, tucked in the corner of the room and decorated with dust.

"Yeah, I've never used it," he explained. "I kinda bought it on a whim after my first stall at the farmer's market. My mom's CD was all I had."

"Well, let's listen to it!" Kyle grinned.

Eric remained on the couch when Kyle made his way over to the stereo, making sure it was plugged in. He flashed Eric a small, enthusiastic grin over his shoulder when the stereo appeared to be working. Kyle put the CD in and _How Will I Know?_ By Whitney Houston erupted from the speakers.

Kyle spun around, clearly excited by the first piece of music he had heard in weeks.

"Come on, let's dance!" He exclaimed, bouncing on his toes.

"What?" Eric balked. "No way!"

Kyle's shoulders sagged and he pouted.

"Why not?" He asked.

"I don't dance, Kyle!" Eric replied, stuffy and fidgeting.

"Neither do I, I'm terrible!" Kyle laughed. "But come on, nobody's going to see us!"

It was true that no strangers were going to see their ridiculous attempts at dancing, nobody was going to happen by the window and observe the farce, but Kyle was going to see Eric and that was embarrassing enough, the last title he wanted Kyle to associate him with was 'uncoordinated idiot'.

But while Eric had been witness to more tempting displays from Kyle (intentional or no), Kyle's adorable lower lip in a deep pout, his half-hearted, dejected dance in desperate need of a partner, his wide, imploring eyes and his hand just waiting to be taken was proving difficult to resist.

Eric sighed, shaking his head with an exasperated smirk as he considered Kyle's proposal. Finally, he rolled his eyes and nodded, chuckling at Kyle's eager grin. Kyle grabbed Eric's hand and pulled him to his feet (with a little help from Eric himself, of course), just as the chorus kicked in:

_How will I know if he really loves me? I say a prayer with every heartbeat._

Apparently, Kyle considered bouncing around like an over-excited puppy as dancing, his grip on Eric's hand firm and encouraging while Eric responded with as much enthusiasm as he could muster; self-conscious and head bowed as he merely shuffled in one spot, blushing and averting Kyle's gaze. But his searing face was aching he was smiling so much.

"You call that dancing?!" Kyle exclaimed.

Eric scoffed and finally looked up at Kyle.

"Like you can talk!" he chuckled.

"At least I'm trying!" Kyle pointed out, panting and cheeks pinked. "Come on!"

Suddenly, Kyle took hold of Eric's other hand and pulled him closer, and the only way for Eric to keep up without stepping on each other's feet was to imitate Kyle's 'moves'. Their intertwined hands were hot and damp, and once Eric started to bounce around to the beat it was difficult to stop, almost compulsory. The breathless laughter that occasionally had them doubled over, and the sporadic twirls and spins weren't mandatory, but they were fun. Bubbly 80s pop songs melded together, until _Lay All Your Love On Me_ by ABBA flooded the living room and Kyle froze, lifting his wide, excited gaze to Eric.

"Oh my God, I love this song!" Kyle grinned.

"Jesus, how can you be so cheesy?"

"Shut up, it's fun!"

Eric laughed and shook his head, but let Kyle lead him as he had done before. Kyle pulled Eric even closer for the chorus, reaching up on his tiptoes to sing in his face:

" _Don't go wasting your emotion_!" Eric was unable to contain his laughter at Kyle's caterwauling, causing Kyle to almost collapse into giggles too. But he tugged at Eric's hands and pressed their foreheads together when he sang, " _Lay all your love on me…"_

Eric's heart pounded to the thumping music, the lyrics that had spilled from Kyle's earnest mouth. This energetic moment was just as intense as their embrace in the hallway, only with music and laughter and words whose sincerity eluded Eric and were still up for chattering debate. Kyle breached from Eric then, encouraging Eric to spin him around and with a wide, amused grin, Eric complied, laughing when Kyle returned to him, their hands only separating for a second.

_Cause everything is new._

Kyle began to close the gap between them.

_And everything is you._

Their foreheads pressed together once more. Eric started to consider that maybe he was right about Kyle flirting with him…

_And all I've learned has overturned._

Kyle's eyes were hooded, darker than Eric had ever seen them, his pupils yawning and he knew. Fuck it, he knew, he had never been surer of anything in all his life.

_What can I do?_

Inhibitions decimated completely by this fervent knowledge Eric's own lids lowered, lulled by the soft fantasy of Kyle's gentle lips cushioning his own…

But the chorus returned and so did reality, time that had been previously suspended. Kyle pulled away, breathless and exhausted, flopping down on the couch. Mind whirring and feet throbbing, Eric joined him. They stared up at the ceiling as they caught their breaths, the music circling above their heads. When they slid their languid gazes to each other, they chuckled, chests trembling.

"Wow… you know, when I first served you at the store, I never imagined that I would one day be dancing with you in your living room," Kyle remarked, panting.

Eric nodded.

"Yeah, well, same," he smiled.

Kyle laughed and elbowed Eric's arm, his smile only grew.

"Your mom has good taste in music," Kyle commented.

"Thanks…" Eric replied, distracted, replaying the events of the night over and over, hoping to find sense beneath the music.

* * *

Lying in bed, Eric found himself staring up at the ceiling once more, silent and contemplative as if his concentration were powerful enough to display his thoughts above him. If they were visible, perhaps, then Eric would be able to organise them better, slot and align them until an answer was finally presented to him.

The sound of running water drifted into the bedroom through the open doors, and when that stopped Eric found himself glancing at the doorway and keeping an ear out for the faint noises of Kyle padding around the bathroom. The sound of footsteps drew closer until Kyle appeared in the bedroom, clad in a loaned t-shirt of Eric's that held more significance now Kyle was wearing it.

Kyle had noticed Eric staring at him and smiled to subdue the apparent intensity of his gaze. Eric remembered himself and returned the smile, the corner of his mouth tugged upwards when Kyle yawned and threw back the pelt, sliding into bed, seemingly free of doubt or hesitation or restlessness regarding the events of the evening.

"Good night, Eric…"

"Good night," Eric replied, although he already knew sleep wouldn't come so easily.

Kyle turned his back to Eric, head resting on what appeared to be his favoured area of the pillow. Eric remained still, spine rigid against the oppressive mattress and skin flushed and itching with curiosity beneath the pelt, his obsessive thoughts doing laps in his head. He had at least eight more hours of tending to every wailing thought, insecurity, and glimmer of hope before morning came. Relaxation was not on the agenda.

"Aren't you going to turn the lamp off?" Kyle asked, still with his back to him.

Eric glanced at the glowing lamp by his bedside. He hadn't even noticed it was still on. He had been too distracted, too consumed by what he was sure he didn't know and what he wanted to believe. He couldn't wait until morning. He would be an exhausted skeleton by then.

"Um… Kyle, can I talk to you?" Eric asked, the most difficult question he had ever brought himself to ask, for so much was at stake.

Kyle looked at Eric over his shoulder, blinking at the sudden invitation of pillow talk.

"Sure," he replied, twisting his body around. Concern had already flooded his lush green gaze. "What's up?"

"N-n-nothing, I just…" Eric sighed, smothering his instinctive, flippant answer. He had to be honest. "I just wanted to ask you something."

Kyle nodded slowly, "alright…"

Eric opened his mouth, attempted to speak, but his voice was cowering in his throat. He wished he could do that, hide under his pelt or flee to the woods, but either way Kyle would find him. Eric stared at the short, shadowed space between them, its obscurity reminding Eric what a big risk he was taking by even questioning their relationship, trusting and following the supposed signs that were written in a language he wasn't fluent in.

"Eric," Kyle whispered, clutching Eric's forearm. "What is it? If something is wrong, I'll try to help you as much as I can."

Eric had tensed as soon as he had felt Kyle's warm, still hand on him, those strong, slender fingers supporting him as well as imploring him to confess all. He trusted them, believed in them and the man they were attached to immensely. He closed his eyes and took a deep, stuttering breath.

"D-d-downstairs earlier, when we were watching _Ghost_ and dancing, were you… I, I don't, I don't exactly know how to read these things and I could be way out of line but… you weren't flirting with me, were you?"

Kyle's hands froze and his fingers stiffened, crippled by a question he probably never expected to be confronted with. Kyle was scared, Eric knew that much, but scared of what? Was he scared of having to deal Eric a rejection, or was he scared that he had been figured out?

His fingers still hovering over Eric's arm, Kyle sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I was…"

"Oh…" Eric whispered, the sound slipping from his lips as unexpectedly as Kyle's admission.

He couldn't believe that he had been right all along! But how was he supposed to have known that Kyle would ever have feelings for him? Eric's heart thudded so intensely it made his whole body tremor.

"It's just that… I was so scared waiting for you yesterday," Kyle explained, and when Eric saw the small creases in his face, the vulnerability that only his eyes were brave enough to convey, he looked as if he was in dire need of holding, and Eric would've, if he wasn't still reeling, eager to learn more. "As the day went on and it got darker outside I was convinced you weren't coming back. So many times I went to get my coat and that hat you loaned me and walk out the door to try to find you but… where would I have started? I don't know these mountains, and you could've been anywhere! I was so desperate, so afraid, that it made me realise how much I need you. And I don't mean to keep a roof over my head until the weather conditions improve. I mean that these few weeks have been scary, but also really great. I feel like we've become such great friends, like I've finally made a true friend here but… I've always felt there was something more," Kyle finished softly, with that same, persistent gaze from their first encounter that Eric would never forget.

Eric blinked at the revelation that his visits to the supermarket hadn't gone unnoticed, or that they were simply a yearning for human contact symptomatic of those who have been alone for so long.

"Haven't you?" Kyle asked. "You've been on my mind since the day we met, and while I was apprehensive at the thought of having to stay here, I've come to love waking up in this bed and going downstairs and seeing you. So yesterday, when I thought that I may never have another morning with you - another day or night with you - it broke my heart. I need you, Eric, and not just to look after me while I stay here. I need you to be in my life wherever I am."

Eric felt as though he was a figure in a snow globe, seemingly content with his stagnant life in the picturesque mountains, the aloof smile painted onto his face to never be wiped off. But then Kyle, curious, had picked up the snow globe and shook it, throwing a snow storm and tidal wave on Eric's quaint, peripheral world to rattle him and throw everything he ever knew into doubt. But the snow was dazzling and Kyle's reflection cast brilliant light on Eric's whole body, rising like the prepossessing sun from nowhere. Kyle shuffled closer to Eric, and he feared he would burn.

"I know you probably never anticipated this, or wanted this," Kyle said gingerly. "You didn't come here to find a romantic relationship, right? But I swear that what I feel…this overwhelming pressure that makes me feel like my heart is about to take off any minute… it isn't just me, is it?"

Eric wanted to answer, tell Kyle that he had felt it too and he had felt it for so long. He wanted to express how absolutely delighted and awed he was that his feelings had been reciprocated, that he had become just as much a part of Kyle as Kyle had become to him. All those words welled up and threatened to make his eyes misty, his words bobbing on sheer relief.

"I don't want to pressure you, Eric," Kyle continued, insecurity needling his voice, but Eric wouldn't let Kyle's sincerity be punctured. "Please be honest with me, tell me if I'm right. Tell me if I'm wrong. Tell me if I'm acting stupid, and presumptuous, and out of my mind , and get it over with because yesterday made me realise I can't waste any more time pretending I'm not crazy about you."

Kyle was floundering in the chasm that once separated them, no longer murky but increasingly transparent. But Eric wouldn't let him fall, wouldn't lose him.

"You're not wrong," he replied.

Kyle's shining eyes widened, a smile rippled across his stunned, parted lips.

"I-I-I'm not?" he asked.

Eric pursed his lips and shook his head.

"No," he replied. "Th-that pressure? That you talked about?"

Kyle nodded, gazing at Eric like he was the only voice he wanted to hear right now, the only face he wanted to see.

"I feel it too. I, I've felt it since the moment I met you," Eric revealed, and finally being able to share that with Kyle released a freedom he had never felt before, one that soared joyously into the atmosphere and showed no signs of crashing. "I've been on my own for so long that I thought I could never feel that way about someone, that nobody could ever possibly floor me in the way you have. But you have, Kyle. I… I, I never thought I'd want anyone, or need anyone, because nobody I ever cared about made me feel like they felt the same way. But you have. I, I know it's only been a few weeks but you've made me feel more cared for and appreciated and needed than anybody or anything has in my entire life."

Kyle's breath shuddered and he pursed his lips. His fingers returned to Eric's arm, stroking him.

"Eric…" Kyle murmured, before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to his.

Eric froze when their lips joined. The kiss was chaste and tentative and the first he'd had in years, but even that ancient, foggy kiss hadn't felt like this. Nobody would compare to it or indeed be able recreate Kyle's gentle capture, his touch, his quiet, glittering intentions that he only teased Eric with, and even the taste of his lips Eric recognised as being distinctively Kyle. He had only had a small, tender sample of Kyle's kiss and already he wanted more, to receive and exchange and have them decorate his body from head to toe. Although lacking experience and confidence, Eric returned the kiss to the best of his ability and Kyle was quick to encourage him, moving closer until his leg was wrapped loosely around Eric's calf. A connection, one that Eric assumed he would never form with anybody.

He was trembling when their lips separated, from shock or premature withdrawal he wasn't sure. But Kyle was quivering next to him, his rosy, glistening lips were pulled into a dazzling, dreamy smile that Eric felt come into bloom on his own face. Was this a cruelly vivid dream or heady reality?

"I love you," Eric whispered, their mouths still so close.

Kyle's eyebrows rose, taken aback, but he remained at Eric's side.

"Fuck, I-I-I'm sorry," Eric blurted, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping it wasn't too late to erase his hasty confession. "I just-"

Kyle was apparently more interested in kissing Eric again than listening to him ramble. It was certainly a good way to shut him up, and Eric would gladly never talk again if it meant he could feel the exquisite press of Kyle's lips always.

"Don't ever apologise for saying that to me," Kyle smiled breathlessly as he pulled away.

Eric chuckled, giddy and Kyle's smile was wrinkled with laughter when they pressed their foreheads together.

"I love you too," Kyle whispered, eyes roaming Eric's face.

"I know," Eric replied, snickering. "You said at Thanksgiving-"

"No, I mean…" Kyle dropped his gaze to Eric's hand and weaved their fingers together, but he met Eric's eyes when he said, "I've fallen in love with you. I don't know when, but I know why and how. Want me to tell you?"

Eric nodded, spellbound.

Kyle smiled. "I fell in love with you because you're so… unusual."

Eric averted his gaze and laughed, prompting Kyle to snicker.

"Everybody at the store talked about you like you were someone I should fear," he continued earnestly. "But they couldn't have been more wrong. You're somebody to be fascinated by, you're extraordinary and unique in the best possible way. Yes, you're somebody who's a little broken…"

Eric frowned shyly and ducked his head, but Kyle wasn't perturbed. His nose brushed against Eric's and he nuzzled softly, coaxing their eyes to meet.

"But we're all broken, Eric, we all need help to be put back together," Kyle reassured. "Even if some of the damage is irreversible, and if it is… then I guess all we can hope for is to find somebody who doesn't mind a few splits and tears."

"And you… -y-y-you want to be that for me?"

"If you'll let me."

Eric nodded and instigated the kiss this time, Kyle responded immediately, smiling into it.

"You're somebody who has so many… facets," Kyle continued when the kiss was over. "Sides sound too superficial, a little fickle. But things that have facets are adaptable, precious… like a diamond," Kyle grinned. "And even if a diamond has a chip, it's still beautiful. Just like you, Eric, you're beautiful and – no matter what you believe about yourself - you deserve to be loved."

Eric's vision was cloudy, his heart stinging with Kyle's piercing words. The worst part? Words had escaped him, articulate Kyle had robbed him of them, so he couldn't express just how grateful he was, how much Kyle meant to him, and how lucky he felt to have him around.

"I'm so bad at this, Kyle," he said apologetically. "I don't even know what to say."

Kyle chuckled and shook his head.

"Don't sweat it," he assured.

"But you've said all these wonderful things and I've got nothing," Eric despaired. "I mean, I have all these thoughts that I've kept to myself so far, things I've wanted to tell you, but I just can't find them right now. I don't know what to say first…"

"You don't have to tell me all at once, I'm happy to wait." Kyle smiled. "I'm sure you'll be ready to tell me eventually."

"Yeah," Eric chuckled, "hopefully."

"Maybe sleep will clear your head?"

"Good idea," Eric nodded, before he reached over and turned off the lamp.

And even in the mountains, with the pale moon their only source of light, the room didn't seem as dark as it had the nights before.

"You know, couples who share a bed usually cuddle," Kyle's voice cut temptingly through the shadows.

"Alright," Eric smirked.

Kyle had his back to him, and Eric wrapped his hesitant arms around his waist. He had never spooned anyone before, and didn't want to ruin the moment by asking silly questions. Kyle's fingers weaved through Eric's that were situated at his chest, admiring each one blind. Eric nuzzled Kyle's curls and smiled in adoration and disbelief.

Then Eric realised something; "you just called us a couple…"

"I know I did," Kyle replied. "You don't mind do you?"

Eric shook his head, still grinning into Kyle's hair.

"Not at all," he said, burying a kiss in Kyle's curls.

"Good night, Eric."

"Good night, Kyle. I love you."

"I love you too."

With Kyle in his arms, Eric had the best night sleep he'd had in twelve, lonely years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I'd love to your thoughts on this latest development and thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it (because writing these two hugging, and flirting, and dancing and kissing is just the best tbh).


	9. Lay You Down

The recent development in his and Kyle's relationship had led Eric to discover a new way of entertaining himself and Kyle, and passing time in the cabin; namely, making out in practically every room. There were the giggling, playful pecks in the kitchen, distracting them from the table that needed clearing and the plates that needed to be washed, where Eric would press Kyle against the lower cupboards, lifting him gently onto the work surface before Kyle looped his arms around his neck. Then there were the earnest lip locks in the living room, pressed flush together on the couch with limbs tangled, hands roaming their bodies with a (for now) tempered desire, and the drowsy, content brushes of lips in the bedroom, affectionate words whispered in the quiet darkness, conversation and kisses just as cosy as the pelt that kept them both warm.

Although they had yet to tread further on the path of physical intimacy, they were both patient. Or, at least Eric was. It had been years since he had kissed someone other than Kyle, an event too fleeting and meaningless to remain in his memory forever. This was the most ecstatic time of his life and he was loving every second. Besides, there was still so much to learn about each other, although with every kiss Eric was establishing a finesse, one tailored to Kyle's wants. He learned that Kyle liked to be pawed at, lifted, kissed deeply. During this process, Eric had discovered his own turn-ons; fingers raking across his back, grasping at his hair, and hot breathy whispers in his ear and Kyle spoiled him without question.

It had taken Eric twelve years to establish his previous routine, daily tasks rarely executed with a smile, let alone a laugh, a word, an embrace upon his return home. When Kyle spent his first night here, Eric was terrified of the paradigm-shifting visit, desperate to cling to a tradition that never failed him - _couldn't_ fail him. He had gladly accepted the change in his routine now, realising it was a product of happiness.

He would wake up with Kyle, and they would make and eat breakfast together before Eric got dressed to go hunting. While he was out stalking the forest, Kyle would explore the cabin with a similar verve, scouring the book shelf and occasionally watching TV if the picture and sound weren't too fragmented and distorted. Often Kyle would greet Eric when he returned home with an inquiry about something he had found under the stairs or on unexplored shelves, and he always returned home to be greeted with a hug from his boyfriend. And no matter how likely the probability was that he would be in Kyle's arms at the end of the day, Eric still felt incredible relief at being in Kyle's embrace, for it would make the sinking thought of the rangers calling and telling him the pass was clear and Kyle could leave him, temporarily dissipate. So far, the rangers had left them alone, nothing substantial to report on.. But Eric was still incredibly unnerved by the lack of certainty. As well as making him forget his worries, Kyle also made Eric forget how it felt to be lonely. And that was scary, because, when Kyle ultimately left this cabin, Eric needed to remember how he coped before. That he was _able_ to cope. It had been nearly a month of adjustment and learning and eventually falling, and Eric felt an acute sense of injustice that this blissful period could end too quickly, or whenever the weather felt like ending it.

He was now lying on the couch by the fire, full from dinner with his head in Kyle's lap. Kyle's fingers were in his hair, stroking leisurely enough to coax slumber. But a question occurred to him and promptly leapt out of his mouth;

"How many times have you been in love?"

"What?" Kyle asked.

Eric shifted slightly so he could look up at Kyle. "Besides from Rebecca… and me… how many people have you been in love with?"

"Hmmm…" Kyle gazed at the wall in front of him, expression hardened thoughtfully. He drummed his fingers against Eric's skull and Eric snickered. "Just you guys. I mean, I've been with people who I _thought_ I was in love with-"

"Like who?"

"Well, there was this guy called David," Kyle replied. "I met him in college, and even before I realised I liked guys I was attracted to him. Which sounds silly I know, but if you go your whole life believing you are something then it takes a while to come around to the fact that it's not true. Even if it's staring you right in the face. But he was my friend, and I thought that this chemistry between us was just a strong, platonic bond. Even if my feelings for him were never as intense as the feelings I'd had for Rebecca…" Kyle stopped, smiling fondly at Eric. "Or the feelings I have for you now."

Eric felt himself flushing with flattery, he hoped the sudden flare wouldn't be noticeable beneath Kyle's fingers.

"But he was great," Kyle continued, sighing. "He was the first person I told about my divorce and he looked… relieved. I called him out on it, and he admitted that he had always liked me. Then he asked me why he was the first person I told, and it hit me then just how much I liked him too. He was the first guy I ever dated. And we had so much fun! He was so sweet and considerate and passionate-"

"Yeah, he sounds great," Eric cut in, growing bored of listening to Kyle talk about this guy. Or at least that's what he convinced himself the sudden sour feeling in his chest was.

"Eric, are you jealous?" Kyle teased.

"No!" Eric retorted, unable to stop an embarrassed, defeated smile from spreading across his face. "Would I tell you the guy was great if I was jealous?"

"Whatever," Kyle chuckled exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. "He was an amazing cook, his parents owned a Mexican restaurant so that's where most of our date nights took place and we'd stay there until closing time."

"Was he a better cook than me?"

"No, he never whipped up a gorgeous Thanksgiving meal for me."

"So I have the edge, huh?"

Kyle grinned. "I guess you do."

"So why didn't it work out?" Eric asked.

"Because while I loved him, I wasn't _in love_ with him," Kyle replied. "No matter how bad and strained things got between Rebecca and I, I remember how it felt to be in love with her. I just didn't get that feeling with David. Yes, it was exciting and new and fulfilling and he made me happy but… I always got the feeling he was more into me than I was into him, you know? Even though my split with Rebecca was mutual and I knew it had to end I was still getting over her. Maybe if my circumstances were different, if I had given it a little more time I would've fallen in love with him…"

"Oh…" Eric murmured, smile fading. As inconsequential as it was, the thought that if things had worked out for Kyle and David, he would never have met Kyle was a plaintive one.

"But if that had happened I would never have met you," Kyle said softly, obviously sensing Eric's discomfort and teasing it out with soothing fingers and tender reassurances. "And there's no doubt in my heart what I feel for you."

Eric exhaled contently, smiling up at Kyle with disbelieving eyes.

"You're, like, the most charming guy I've ever met," he confessed.

"I'm good with words, I guess," Kyle replied, averting his sheepish gaze momentarily. "Every class speech, I was nominated to give it."

"Would we have hung out in high school?"

"Depends…"

"On what?"

"What you were like in high school…"

"I was hardly there," Eric admitted, lowering his gaze. "I got in trouble a lot. I didn't have many friends."

"So you would never have hung out with, say, a basketball captain who also happened to be on the student council?" Kyle asked with a small chuckle.

Eric smirked. "Probably not."

"That's a shame," Kyle sighed. "We could have had some fun."

"Doing what?"

Kyle shrugged. "Going on dates, school dances, having lunch together…" His smile glinted, a wicked half-smirk before he murmured, "making out in the janitor's closet."

Eric chuckled, his breath caught in his throat imagining the ludicrous yet enticing image of the teenage version of himself, kissing and giggling and fumbling in the dark with the teenage version of Kyle.

"Your idea of high school sounds like a lot of fun," he commented.

"I had a blast…" Kyle replied reminiscently.

"I never even graduated," Eric said, thinking out loud more than anything.

Kyle's fingers stilled in Eric's hair.

"You didn't?" He asked.

Eric appreciated Kyle's concern, but he didn't want his pity. It was his choice that he didn't graduate. His graduation ceremony was the last thing on his mind when he left home.

"No, I was living in a motel just outside Denver by then," he replied.

Kyle exhaled gently, staring at Eric as he contemplated what to say. He resumed stroking Eric's hair.

"Were you happy?" He asked, brushing the hair away from Eric's brow.

"I think so," Eric nodded. "I was trying to be."

Kyle's smile creased, not with sadness but with a strange pride, happy with what Eric had made of himself despite the circumstances. Yes, it wasn't an ambitious life, a wealthy life, but it was a life he had created and sustained all on his own. He brushed his thumb across Eric's forehead and Eric supressed a shiver at Kyle's cool skin coming into contact with his own. He cleared his throat:

"You were… uh… telling me about your past 'almost-loves'."

"Right," Kyle continued, voice faint. "I thought I was in love with Leslie but she… man, she really screwed me up. I never knew where I stood with her, she would tell me all I wanted to hear and even if I knew she was too good to be true she would say everything so sincerely that she'd make you believe all her lies. It's pathetic, actually, to think back on how much I fucking fawned over her. I don't know whether I loved her, or how she made me feel… at the beginning at least. Now, I just know she was an infatuation. This, like, wolf in sheep's clothing who came to me when I was at my most vulnerable and I just wanted to feel good again-"

"Why did you feel vulnerable?" Eric asked, a protective urge that had been dormant all his life now welled up inside him.

Kyle sighed. "Because I met her at the time when I really started to resent my job, when I realised that I was in my thirties and hadn't accomplished anything meaningful. We didn't last very long. She was the last relationship I had before I came out here. When I found out I wasn't the only idiot being lured in by her I decided I had to leave, that I had to put all my bad decisions behind me and move on."

Eric didn't respond and Kyle didn't continue, perhaps because they had reached the present moment?

"They say time is the best healer, right?" Kyle, as always, was the first to fill the silence. "But I prefer distance."

"Yeah," Eric agreed. "Me too."

Kyle snickered, ran his fingers through Eric's hair.

"So how about you?" He asked.

"What about me?"

"How many times have you been in love?"

Eric gulped, he felt inadequate somehow.

"Just once," he admitted. "With you."

Kyle blinked, a wide smile spilling onto his face. "Really?"

"You're surprised?" Eric returned. "I've spent my entire adult life alone."

"I guess…" Kyle nodded. "So then, how did you know?"

"Huh?"

"How did you know you were in love with me when you've never been in love before?" Kyle asked.

Eric shifted from his once comfortable position, another time where Kyle had completely snatched his words from him.

"I'm not questioning how you feel," Kyle was quick to reassure him, voice and hand shaking slightly. "Not at all, I'm just curious-"

"How did you know you were in love with Rebecca?"

"Well, I…I…" Kyle stuttered for a while, before replying, "I just knew."

"Then… there's your answer," Eric shrugged, smiling, his heart felt so light that it could float. "You know that pressure you talked about? In your heart?"

Kyle nodded, beaming down at Eric.

"I had never felt that before, for anyone," Eric continued. "This fascination I had with you when we first met was totally new to me. I'm not saying it was love at first sight, but…" Eric shrugged, smiling even wider at the possibility. "I don't know, it could've been. I guess when that pressure started to feel less like confusion and more like euphoria, that's when I realised this was different, that it was love. All my life I had been looking for… a love that I always felt was missing," Eric's brow creased then, his voice grew more earnest as the trajectory of the conversation veered into his past. "I went searching for it, and I don't think I ever found it. But being with you, I'm thinking that maybe love isn't something you find. Maybe it's just something that happens, something uncontrollable that you never expected, that you never planned for. I planned to be alone, because I thought that solitude was the best I could hope for. But it wasn't, Kyle, it was you."

Eric reached for Kyle's spare hand, clasped his unsuspecting fingers and then brought them to his lips. A rapturous, grateful kiss.

"Love made me realise it was you," he then smiled, gazing into Kyle's misty eyes.

* * *

Over breakfast, Kyle had suddenly declared that he was bored of staying inside all day and wanted some fresh air. Eric was wary, as if letting Kyle step out of the cabin was one careless, impulsive move away from him disappearing out of his life forever. As vehemently as Eric tried to convince himself that would never happen, as much security and comfort he felt when Kyle ended up back in his arms even after rolling out of his embrace in the night, the storm was lilting, the snow came in mild flurries and what lay beyond the mountain was melting into view. The town was still obscure, but just because it was invisible didn't mean it wasn't there waiting, lying dormant.

But Eric complied, for he understood all too well the frustration of being bound by walls and severe weather conditions. When outside, they decided to make a snowman. They used gnarled twigs for arms and fashioned buttons as well as facial features out of the smooth, cold stones found at the periphery of the forest, buried under frost.

"There!" Kyle beamed, shoving one last stone into the snowman's white, round belly. "All done! He looks pretty great, huh?"

They both stepped back to admire their handiwork.

"Yeah but… something is missing…" Eric replied.

"What?" Kyle asked.

Eric bit his lip, glancing between the snowman and Kyle, before taking Kyle's hat and placing it on the snowman's head.

Kyle's mouth was agape and his eyes were wide, his expression causing laughter to bubble in Eric's throat.

"Much better…" he smirked.

"That's my hat!"

"Well, I gave it to you so technically it's my hat," Eric pointed out.

"Yeah, but you said I could have it," Kyle replied with a self-satisfied grin, arms folded across his chest. "Therefore, you've given up ownership of the hat."

"But it was mine first…"

Kyle sighed, and tilted his head.

"Jesus, am I ever going to have the last word?" he asked.

"Probably not…" Eric replied matter-of-factly.

Kyle snickered and shook his head before Eric returned his attention to their snowman. Sure, he was missing a signature carrot nose and a scarf, but with their limited resources it was a commendable attempt. Before Eric could congratulate himself further, something sharp and icy struck the side of his face. The snow sprayed on his shoulder and Kyle's barely contained laughter indicated that Eric had just been hit by a snowball.

"Hey!" Eric laughed, brushing away the snow from his clothes.

Kyle didn't reply, merely offering him a smug, challenging smirk. Eric shook his head, tongue poking his cheek.

"It's gonna be like that, huh?" he asked.

Kyle shrugged, smirk never wavering.

Keeping his eyes trained on Kyle, Eric crouched down and scooped up some snow, grinning when he saw Kyle run away as fast as his legs could carry him through the powder. Quickly rolling the snow up into a ball, Eric then threw the snowball and snickered when it hit Kyle's back. Kyle wasn't dazed by the hit for too long though, swiftly crafting his own snowball to throw at Eric. It hit Eric's chest and slid down his jacket, quickly trampled on as Eric jogged to keep up with Kyle.

Their breathless laughs echoed around the still mountain as they chased each other, occasionally interspersed with the soft thump of exploding snowballs. Kyle disappeared behind the truck that was covered in melting snow and stayed there long enough that Eric stood still, his laughter and smirk being replaced by genuine confusion. His focused eyes couldn't detect any movement and he almost jumped in fright when a snowball landed on his head, a warm body behind him that had got up on their tiptoes to crush the snowball on his skull. But Eric knew who the culprit was and he laughed as the snow slid into his hair, reaching around and grabbing Kyle from behind, attempting to pull him to the ground. Protesting peals drowned in Kyle's own giddy laughter, and combined with Eric's strength made it impossible for him to stay standing, let alone upright.

Finally managing to get Kyle on the ground, Eric rolled over so that he was on top of him. Kyle's warm body was thrumming with giggles, his joyous, brimming eyes looking at nobody other than him. If it wasn't for the numbing, melting snow on his scalp, dripping from his hair, Eric would've classified the moment as a perfect one.

"Cold?" Kyle chuckled.

"F-f-fucking fr-fr-freezing…" Eric replied, teeth chattering.

"Let me make it up to you," Kyle smiled, reaching up to claim Eric's lips. "Warm you up…"

Kyle's hot, plush lips thawed out and loosened Eric's stiff, cold ones and soon he was returning the kiss with the same rhythm and finesse, melting as helplessly as ice cream in July. Kyle's leading tongue was devouring him eager and fast, as if he were as delicious as a strawberry scoop (Kyle's favourite, Eric recalled). Kyle embraced Eric in the snow, his fingers blindly clambering onto his back, before they gripped his hair before they clutched at his neck, as indecisive as they were inquisitive. Eric was already between Kyle's legs, but when Kyle spread them wider Eric took the opportunity to press their bodies flush together. Both of them were searing, their temperatures rocketing after being introduced to even the smallest amount of heat in the freezing cold. But Eric wanted them closer, so close that they would perhaps meld or fuse; a passionate scene forever embedded into the sublime landscape.

Their already heated kisses grew deeper, wetter and with every smack of disconnected lips, every hitch of breath and muffled groan they were on their way to being sated, but their appetites were growing larger. They needed more to feast their eyes on, more to gorge on, more to stimulate every sense until they had had their fill. Writhing in the snow, their arousal was apparent.

"Let's go inside…" Kyle breathed out between kisses.

"Why?" Eric murmured, too content to move.

"Well, if we stripped off out here the cold wouldn't be forgiving to either of us…"

"Huh?" Eric asked, pulling away and his eyes roamed Kyle's face for clarification.

Kyle's face was flushed, his lips glistening and swollen, his darkened eyes reflecting only Eric. Wrapping his leg around Eric's thigh, he pressed their bodies closer together, raising his own hips so Eric could feel his burgeoning erection.

Eric gasped, although he knew what was going to occur between him and Kyle, and although nothing had been spoken aloud, the prospect still overwhelmed him.

"Do you want to?" Kyle asked, his tone pleading for an affirmative.

In the spirt of not voicing desires, Eric simply nodded. He stood up and pulled Kyle up with him, and only away from their embrace did they realise how pinked, breathless and hard they were, the state they had worked each other up in. Eric held Kyle's fingers and wondered whether they should kiss again, if that would only delay what was about to happen next. It was then Eric realised that this wouldn't be the first time during this encounter where he would feel absolutely clueless, but he couldn't let his apprehension prevent him from being with Kyle, he _wouldn't_ let it.

"Come on…" he murmured.

They walked to the cabin hand in hand and once inside, Kyle looked at him with eyes that sparkled with intent and brightened his smile exponentially. His shoulders deflated with relief at what they finally about to embark on. Eric wished he could've offered Kyle the same unadulterated enthusiasm, but his nerves got the better of him and he instead rushed to take his coat off and untie his boots.

With his large back to Kyle he reddened in embarrassment and gritted his teeth. He heard fumbling behind him, the sound of Kyle's shoes being discarded on the floor, his jacket hung up on the rack. Eric stood up to place his coat next to Kyle's, he shrugged it from his shoulders and as soon as he hung it from the rack he felt Kyle's arms coil around his middle, and his tender kisses at his back. Eric gasped and gripped the sleeve of his coat.

"Eric…" Kyle murmured, his kisses crawling up Eric's spine.

Kyle's stiff, clothed cock prodded at Eric's lower back and his hands slid down his stomach until they reached Eric's tented jeans, popping the button and unzipping his fly. Eric was frozen now, suspended in disbelief as if he were watching the scene from afar. But this was happening, this was real. Kyle's touch was warm and gentle and persuasive and Eric was unprepared and exhilarated but also terrified.

"Wait!" he blurted out.

Kyle snatched his hand from Eric's pants and backed away immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Eric hung his head, closing his eyes as he exhaled shakily. Turning around to look at Kyle, he instantly hated the embarrassment and guilt that clouded Kyle's expression. He had never wanted to make him feel that way.

"N-n-nothing! You just…" Eric pursed his lips and looked to the ceiling, before he returned to Kyle with the rest of his explanation. "Y-y-you just took me by surprise a little…"

"Oh…" Kyle nodded, before ducking his head and mumbling, "I'm sorry…"

Eric frowned, constricted by sympathy. He took Kyle's chin between his thumb and bent index finger, lifting his head.

"Don't be, you did nothing wrong," Eric assured, smiling when Kyle did. "I just haven't done this for a while."

"That's fine," Kyle nodded.

"I…" Eric sighed, glancing at the stairs. "I, I need a minute."

Kyle looked at the stairs too, as if trying to understand what significance they had to Eric's comfort.

"Alright," he smiled, regardless if he understood.

Eric responded with a tight smile and slowly made his way over to the stairs.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Kyle asked, trailing behind him.

"No, stay here," Eric said, one foot on the step.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Eric replied. "Just wait in the living room, Kyle, I'll be down in a minute."

Kyle smiled in acquiescence, reaching up to place a kiss on Eric's cheek before he disappeared into the living room. Eric sighed, already recalling the gentle, nurturing press of Kyle's lips before he ascended the stairs and headed to the bathroom. Shutting the door he then paced for a few minutes, reluctant and anxious and concerned for his performance, After all, it was such a long time since he had been 'intimate' with anybody… although, before Kyle came along, had he ever really been intimate with anyone?

He was eighteen and drunk the last (and _first_ ) time he fucked someone. It was in a bar on the side of a forgotten road. It was the end of the night, and he ended up in one of the stalls of the men's restroom with someone. A guy with no name, or features striking or discernible enough to pierce Eric's opaque, whisky-scented haze. He had no clue what he was doing, or what he was supposed to be doing, or why he was even doing it. He must have been lonely, that guy must have paid him some attention, and, in turn, must have been lonely too. The stranger enjoyed himself, he had moaned and cursed and begged unabashedly while Eric held him down and thrusted, urging his climax while staring straight ahead. He hadn't told the guy he was a virgin. His inexperience hadn't mattered then, until Kyle had worn away his apathy nothing had mattered. Despite how wonderful it felt to care for Kyle and knowing Kyle cared for him in return, Eric wished Kyle had let him keep just a little piece of that indifference. So he could temper his anxiety and assure himself that this wasn't a huge deal, that the consequences weren't important.

Eric marched to the sink, turned the facet and splashed some water onto his face. Lifting his head, he was confronted with his shaking, dripping reflection and tried to find some perspective. Yes, it wouldn't be perfect, but it would be incredible and special because _Kyle_ was the one he was with. And he would remember it and cherish it, even the nerves, even the fumbling. It was then Eric realised that Kyle possibly felt the same way. Maybe Kyle didn't care about mind-blowing technique or expert moves? Maybe he just cared about Eric, _wanted_ Eric. Perhaps he wanted Eric badly enough that he could take the lead? Eric had made it clear he was a novice, but Kyle – despite the unpleasant feelings it elicited in Eric – wasn't. It wouldn't be perfect, but it would be enough. And if enough meant each other, then that was more than Eric could have ever wished for.

Taking a deep, bracing breath, Eric left the bathroom and entered the bedroom. He smoothed out the pelt, shut the curtains for privacy (although nobody was going to see them except for a couple of voyeuristic birds who happened to fly past the window), and then switched on the lamp in an attempt to add some ambiance. He cringed at his rushed, feeble attempts at seduction but it had to do. It was enough.

He then made his way downstairs, and by the time he reached the bottom step he still hadn't decided on whether to go for the spontaneous approach of sweeping Kyle off his feet and carrying him to bed, or admit that he was ready before confidently extending his hand for Kyle to take, leading him to the bedroom. But none of that mattered when he entered the living room, awed at the sight that greeted him, his words obliterated and voice escaping him.

Kyle was on his knees by the fireplace, clothes in a heap by the sofa and clad in just his boxers. His skin glowed with enticing shades of red, orange and yellow, illuminating his patient, prepossessing form. His eyes gleamed, and his smile was beckoning. Cushions were placed on the carpet, setting the scene and waiting for Eric's arrival.

Absorbing it all, Eric's voice finally returned to him. "What the hell-"

"Just thought I'd set the mood," Kyle interrupted, voice quiet enough not to intimidate Eric but still at an imploring volume. He rose from the fireplace, as enchanting as any phoenix and as beguiling as any siren. "I know you probably had the bedroom in mind but the fire… it's so romantic."

Eric nodded wordlessly for a few seconds, thoughtlessly, as if hypnotised.

"Y-y-yeah…" he replied, his breaths tripling as he raked his eyes over Kyle and whispered, "wow…"

Kyle walked over to Eric slowly, eyes trained on him as if his gait and persistent gaze were part of the hypnotic process, luring Eric to his lips among other things. And Eric was definitely bewitched, his body limp and Kyle swirled in his darkened, amber gaze. A cool, cautious hand found Eric's, Kyle's fingers reluctantly brushed against his before he held them with purpose and led him to the fireplace, the lusty pyre were Eric would burn without the assistance of flames.

"You still want this, don't you?" Kyle asked, searching Eric's hooded eyes.

"Of course I still want this…" Eric paused to drink Kyle in. "I want _you_ … so much."

Kyle's smile glinted.

"Great," he whispered, reaching up to press their lips together.

With Eric's inhibitions perishing, the kiss soon deepened, urge replacing doubt. Eric's hands were splayed at Kyle's back, embracing Kyle who had his arms looped around his neck. But soon Kyle's compelling fingers slid over Eric's shoulders, and he drew a faint whine from Eric's mouth when he released his lips. Kyle kissed his cheek, as if the childish solution of kissing things better applied, before his lips migrated to Eric's neck and started to pepper sultry, slick kisses there. Eric moaned, head dipping back and Kyle's mouth now seized the area made available to him, another part of Eric to conquer. Those fingers at Eric's shoulders had been still, and Kyle had waited until Eric was distracted by the kisses on his neck before he took hold of the first button on Eric's plaid shirt.

Eric felt the first button pop open but he didn't respond, he didn't care. Perhaps he still had the remnants of that apathy lodged in his brain? Or perhaps it had evolved into trust? Seeds that Kyle had tended and coaxed to come into bloom as something more remarkable, more beautiful, more accessible to others. Soon every button had come undone, revealing a plain white undershirt. Before Kyle could peel the plaid shirt away from his shoulders, Eric tilted his head and connected their lips again, the symbol of ardour Kyle needed to finally remove the pesky shirt from Eric's body. It fell to the floor and Kyle's hands flew to the unbuttoned, unzipped jeans sitting low on Eric's hips, with one tug they slumped into a denim pile around Eric's ankles. Once again, he didn't care, rather he trusted Kyle in his disrobing of him. He wanted Kyle to see him, wanted Kyle to rid him of what he realised were confining clothes that covered and concealed. Why hide more of himself, when he had worn a mask all his life? A mask of hope, a mask of acceptance, a mask of stern defiance and deprival that even fooled him when he looked in the mirror. Kyle had tentatively lifted that mask but Eric was the one who shattered it, freed himself from it, and he wanted to be liberated now.

They both stumbled as Eric stepped out of his jeans, and their laughter was hummed and muffled between their sealed lips. Kyle's hands found the hem of Eric's t-shirt and lifted it, and Eric raised his arms so Kyle could easily pull the shirt over his head. Both of them bare-chested, Eric slowly lowered his arms with the intention of pulling Kyle flush to him and reconnecting their lips. But Kyle's dark, verdant gaze was fixed on Eric's wide chest, his fingers clutching Eric's biceps. All Eric had ever dreamed of was being accepted and wanted, now he was shrinking under Kyle's blinding adoration.

"Kyle…" he murmured, pressing their foreheads together.

He went to kiss him, but Kyle evaded his lips.

"I wasn't going to tell you this but… I might as well tell you now," Kyle said in a hushed voice, stroking Eric's muscles hidden under layers of fat.

"What?"

"Remember when I watched you chop wood that one time?" Kyle asked, giving Eric a chaste kiss before he could answer.

Eric nodded with lidded eyes.

"When I showered afterwards I…" Kyle paused, smiling to himself. Eric thought it coy before further inspection deemed it wicked. "I, I jerked off thinking about you…"

Eric gulped, eyes wide enough for his irises to shrink into gleaming white, completely taken aback. Kyle still held him, still grinned, was still ineffably composed. Yes, Eric now knew that Kyle's feelings hadn't been of a platonic nature for a while, but he hadn't considered how much desire he could stoke in him, how alluring his actions could be to Kyle without even trying… how he had brought Kyle to orgasm once already, without even having to touch him. The latter instilled some boastful confidence in Eric.

"Y-y-you did?" He asked, the lump in his throat rendering his words jittery.

"I couldn't get your big strong arms out of my mind," Kyle replied, velvety as he admired Eric's biceps. He lifted his gaze to Eric and smiled, "I had to do something…"

"Holy shit, Kyle…" Eric muttered.

Kyle chuckled before asking, "Didn't you notice how much I was flirting with you?"

Before Eric could answer the question, he noticed Kyle's fingertips rolling down his arms as carefully and gently as beads of sweat.

"I guess I'm a little oblivious to stuff like that…" he replied with a thin, clipped chuckle.

"Then I'm going to have to be more forward," Kyle punctuated his sentence by cupping Eric's bulge and groping him through his boxers. "From now on, aren't I?"

"Y-y-yeah…" Eric moaned as soon as he found his breath, blinking away the raining lightening in his eyes.

Kyle smirked, before their lips collided again. Eric pressed Kyle flush to him with his big, strong arms that Kyle adored so much. Warm, plush skin met and the downy, near invisible hairs on their bodies swelled with friction at the follicles, bristling, along with the coarser, darker hairs that decorated their chests, bridged their navels to the waistbands of their underwear. Wrapping his fingers around Eric's wrist, Kyle slowly lowered them to the floor. He lay on the rug, head resting on a cushion, and Eric barely had time to admire him before Kyle was pulling him on top.

No snow, no restrictive layers, no reluctance, Eric and Kyle kissed and writhed on the living room floor, their erections obvious and rubbing together while their hands searched for purchase on each other's bodies but never settled. Invigorated by his soaring arousal and Kyle's zealous yet considerate passion, Eric felt brave enough to let his lips roam from Kyle's mouth to his neck. It had felt amazing when Kyle had kissed him, nipped him, sucked him there, he wondered if that pleasure was transferrable. Eric left his first lovebite on Kyle's neck and it elicited a groan from him, throwing his head back suddenly. Kyle's pale, firm neck exposed, Eric took the opportunity to make his mark, indentions of his teeth were like footprints in virgin snow.

He continued to paw at Kyle, his thick fingers finding the waistband of his boxers and while he wanted to pull them down, to see Kyle beautifully bare, he was hesitant. The pads of his fingers skimmed the material, pinched it and rubbed it between his fingers, hoping Kyle would give him some indication of what he should do.

"Take them off, Eric…" Kyle exhaled.

Eric breached from Kyle's neck, he looked down at him for confirmation but was unprepared for the gorgeous sight that assaulted him; Kyle hazy and flushed and panting _because of him_. Marked by him. He could've whimpered.

"Really?" he asked.

Kyle nodded, a smile wobbling on his face and Eric sat between Kyle's legs, lifting them and spreading them wide. Kyle raised his hips and his taut body trembled as Eric pulled down his boxers, peeled them away from his legs and every inch of Kyle he revealed took a breath from him. Kyle's wiry, copper curls, just a bit redder than his own pubic hair prompted the smallest of smirks, and his throbbing, cut cock made his mouth feel heavier, close to salivating. Eric watched himself remove Kyle's underwear, watched the piece of fabric slide from Kyle's legs before pulling it from Kyle's ankles and discarding it on the floor.

Eric was fascinated by Kyle's naked body, enthralled by every single detail; from his toes, to his knees, to his thighs, to his cock, to his stomach, chest, arms, neck, lips, nose, eyes, and Eric's erection felt even more weighted in his straining underwear. He had fallen in love with the marvellous, figurative Kyle, the wonderful abstracts of his mind, his words, and his personality that drew Eric in and made him conclude that Kyle was astoundingly beautiful. But he had never been so enamoured by the physicality of Kyle, that only enhanced that deep, unyielding beauty that reflected above and below the surface, entrenched, embedded, could never be separated.

Eric's breathing was threadbare over his pounding heart, and Kyle was staring up at him with refracted fascination and his own anticipation. He cupped and stroked Kyle's calf, before he came to his ankle and ran his fingers along the underside of his foot. Eric stopped when he heard Kyle gasp and felt him fidget.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I, I, I'm a little ticklish…" Kyle explained, a tad breathless.

"Should I remember that?"

Kyle snickered. "It could come in handy…"

Eric grinned, before running his hands up Kyle's legs and only when he found purchase on Kyle's hips did he resume their closeness, skin on skin and lips meeting. Kyle, neediness exacerbated by his nudity, arched into the contact and moaned when his bare erection met Eric's clothed one and Eric ground his hips as they kissed to tease Kyle with relief. His fingers traced the outline of Kyle's ribcage and then raised his arms, gliding over the soft, milky underside and his thumbs kneaded the tender flesh as if it were marble. Their kisses were satisfying and steady, but still Eric released Kyle's mouth to nurse the lovebites at his neck, while also planting kisses on his jaw and stubbly chin. Eric was surprised himself at his dexterous handling of Kyle, and Kyle's heaving chest and fluttering moans and whimpers beneath him only boosted his confidence. He felt Kyle's leg wrap around his lower back and push him closer with his heel, and when Eric started to thrust harder, Kyle cried out.

"Eric!" he whimpered. "Please…."

Without even saying it, Eric knew what Kyle was pleading for and so he sat up, Kyle's unspoken request emboldened him to remove his own underwear. Panting and with lips parted, Kyle propped himself up on his elbows to watch, and Eric kept his eyes on Kyle as he pulled down his boxers.

He pursed his lips and ducked his head shyly when Kyle grinned at the sight of his uncovered cock, his eyes bright and promising. Before Eric could say anything, Kyle pulled him back on top, their lips smashing together, partially numb before their tongues coaxed sensation. And speaking of sensation… Eric whimpered when his cock met Kyle's, understanding why Kyle was so eager before to rid him of his boxers. They frotted with more enthusiasm and urgency, Eric's fingers were sunk in Kyle's hips, while Kyle had one hand tangled and tugging at Eric's hair, and the other was clutching Eric's back.

"Th-this is probably a, uh, stupid question-" Kyle was interrupted by a swift kiss. "But do you have condoms or, um-" Another kiss. "L-l-lube?"

The realisation that he had neither of those things in the cabin plummeted into Eric's gut and he pulled away, shaking his head. He winced, sensing Kyle's disappointment. Kyle's gaze wandered in thought, but they were both still dismayed when they sat up. Eric was on his knees and Kyle had propped himself up on his hands. Both shivering, their consummation coming to a halt.

"Well… we could still fuck?" Kyle offered. "Just not in the literal sense."

"What do you mean?" Eric asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"There are lots of different ways to have sex," Kyle pointed out.

"I wouldn't know," Eric replied sheepishly. "It's been a while."

Kyle smiled at Eric, creased with endearment, before he shrugged and got on his knees too, leaning forward.

"I could show you?"

Before Eric could even an answer, Kyle wrapped his arm around Eric's shoulder, clutching the nape of his neck and pulling him to his lips. Despite his surprise, Eric readily responded, matching the frenetic tempo of Kyle's kiss, their knees touching. But Eric was so focused on keeping up with Kyle and so immersed in the kiss that he hadn't realised that Kyle had taken hold of his cock.

" _Aaahh_!" Eric cried, fracturing the kiss.

Their sweaty foreheads pressed together, Eric looked down to see the moist head of his cock and Kyle's fingers wrapped around the base. He blinked, eyes stinging, and when Kyle started to pump at his cock he squeezed them shut tightly and a long, supressed groan escaped his mouth. Like their previous kiss, Kyle wasn't so much drawing the pleasure out of him but rather letting Eric chase after it, elusive yet excruciatingly close to touch. Managing to open his eyes, Eric saw Kyle's neglected erection and realised that Kyle's pursuit of ecstasy had barely begun. What kind of lover would he be to leave Kyle behind? To get so carried away by taking that he forgot to give to his deserving boyfriend? With a quivering hand, Eric reached out and grabbed Kyle's erection, jerking him off unceremoniously but Kyle responded well. No need for build-up or teasing.

"Oh God!" Kyle shouted, squeezing his eyes shut too before his lips crushed Eric's in a kiss, his hand pumping even faster.

Their movements soon became synchronised, hard and relentless, while their hips jerked, rough and stilted, their hands and hips the only parts of their bodies not exhausted, instead fuelled by the knowledge of imminent gratification. They were both glistening with sweat, their hair doused in it, struggling to breathe as their arousal swelled and overrode rational thought. Speech had devolved into whimpers and groans that bounced on their vocal chords, taunting them, wearing them thin. Their kiss-bruised lips were now languid and vying for ecstasy as much as the rest of their body parts, exchanging sloppy and sporadic kisses as if they were gulps of water to sustain their energy when adrenaline and lust weren't enough.

" _Aaah, Kyle!_ " Eric cried, hoarse as the words strained against his abused vocal chords. "Kyle, I'm gonna – _oh fuck_!"

He came all over Kyle's hand and the pressure of his orgasm nearly winded him, gasping when relieved tears burned his eyes, and he gritted his teeth at the thrumming ache that followed such overwhelming pleasure. Exhaling shakily, Eric rode his orgasm out with a series of sated whimpers, chest heaving.

"Eric?" Kyle moaned, tilting his head and brushing his nose against Eric's. As Eric's body sighed, his hand had slowed around Kyle's dripping cock.

Blinking a few times, the sight of Kyle's cock in his hand finally became clear and he continued jerking him off. Kyle groaned gratefully, throwing his head back and whimpering with every pump of Eric's hand.

"I, I – _Oh God!_ – I'm almost there, Eric… d-d-don't stop…"

Eric wouldn't have wanted to for the world, dying to bring Kyle into ecstasy while cum still dribbled from his own cock. Kyle was close enough that he started thrusting into Eric's hand, fucking it desperately, his trembling fingers still at Eric's neck now dug into the sore skin.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't… d-d-don't! _Aaahh_!" Kyle cried. " _Aah, Eric!"_

Kyle's hips continued to jerk when he came, and he stared down at the mess he had made in Eric's hand, gasping and whispering curse words all the while. Eric had never seen a sight so endearing and sexy before, and he had no choice but to interrupt Kyle's post-climax reverie with a kiss. He could feel Kyle's trembling smile against his lips, his gentle, phantom kiss hopefully prolonging Kyle's pleasure as he rode out his orgasm.

Kyle guided Eric to lie on the floor, and he winced. His body was numb and loose, but also sore, like he could feel every neglected nerve ending prickle with this weighted, momentous pleasure. Eric grinned, wide and satisfied at Kyle above him.

"Happy?" Kyle asked, stroking Eric's chest as he straddled him, feeling the tremors of his pounding heart.

"Ecstatic…" Eric replied breathlessly.

Kyle snickered, before looking over his shoulder. He stretched out and retrieved the cushion he had once rested his head on, before placing it under Eric's head. Eric lay there silently, without question but brimming with trust for the man above him who had made him feel a lifetime of emotions and sensations in the space of a few weeks. Brushing the damp hair away from Eric's brow, Kyle then stroked his rounded cheek. Kyle rested his body weight on his elbow when he leaned down to place a kiss on Eric's lips, and Eric cupped and squeezed Kyle's ample rump to pull him closer, one hand still wet. Leaving Eric's lips, Kyle pecked his jaw before kissing his way down his chest. Eric made himself comfortable on the rug and watched Kyle's journey, goosebumps erupting on his flesh at the juxtaposing feeling of Kyle's tender lips and his coarse facial hair against his skin.

"So how long has it been exactly?" Kyle asked, not looking at Eric as he kissed his belly. "Since you last had sex?"

"I, I, I was eighteen so… f-f-fourteen years?" Eric replied, his mind was flickering with recollection, his memories were faraway.

"That's a long time…" Kyle commented below him.

"Yeah, it is..."

When Kyle reached Eric's groin, his fingers coiled around the base of his cock and Eric whined at the sudden contact when he still felt so sensitive.

"I'm going to make up for every second…" Kyle promised, before he placed the head of Eric's cock between his lips.

* * *

The sun had been stolen by the stars when Eric and Kyle finally relented, an inky sparkling night replaced the pale daylight, an overcast afternoon lost to their love-making. Though as Kyle had vowed, Eric had regained all those moments of passion he had been deprived of during his years of abstinence and isolation. But this hadn't been sex as Eric had known it, - quick, rough, and selfish. Sex with Kyle had been everything Eric had fallen in love with about him, it was sincere, and generous, and addictive too.

Eric had taught Kyle so much on the mountain, introduced him to his way of life, and with Kyle's enchanting fingers and sensuous lips as guides Eric was happy to suspend his role as teacher. From the day they met Kyle had been slowly thawing out Eric's stern, frosty reserve, and that afternoon he had succeeded in making him melt; arching and bucking and writhing and groaning and crying out until his limbs ached and his voice was threadbare. That's not to say the pleasure Kyle brought him went unreciprocated. Once his breathing had slowed and he returned to earth, Eric was determined to make Kyle feel just as grand as he'd had, his competitive streak encouraging him to use every newly-developed skill at his disposal to make Kyle's sultry body quake with lusty tremors, to draw his name out from Kyle's parted, gleaming lips in pleading cries. Eric knew he was triumphant when Kyle sobbed in rapturous relief, when his name rode on the same whispered, delirious carousel as a deity.

Contrary to the events of the afternoon, they were not insatiable or invincible, and with quivering smiles and bodies they had breached, but still remained close. They lay side by side on the living room floor, coated in their own sweat as well as each other's, their laboured breathing drifting into each other's ears, both drained and fulfilled. The fireplace was dim but still lit dully by amber eyes in the charred wood. Kyle had forgone a pillow to rest his head on, using Eric's arm instead, and he pressed a kiss to Eric's cheek. Eric snickered at the small peck.

"Are you okay?"

Dazed, Eric had been staring up at the ceiling before he slid his gaze to Kyle, a more beatific sight.

"Yeah, I'm great," he replied, a rasp to his voice. "Just a little light-headed."

Kyle nodded, his movements weighted by undeniable satisfaction. "We should probably have something to eat…"

"I don't feel like moving," Eric said softly, stroking Kyle's curls and seeing him through lidded, satisfied eyes. "I want to stay right here."

Kyle beamed and nodded, wrapping his arm around Eric's chest and nuzzling him there.

"Me too…" he whispered, eyes slipping shut.

The crescendo to his elation reverberated throughout Eric's tired body. He stiffened, unable to take his eyes off Kyle and unable to release his words that he knew were pressed fiercely to his heart. Kyle looked so peaceful, so contented, so happy… did his words have a deeper meaning? Did they extend beyond today, this night, this temporary bed on the living room floor? With Kyle in his arms, it was easy for Eric to believe they might just.

Eric's eyes were clouded with tears, crumpling his smile. He wrapped his arm around Kyle but he didn't stir, and a tear fell into his hair when Eric kissed his drenched curls. He would wait to carry Kyle to bed, not wanting to disturb his sleep, not wanting anything to disturb their idyllic, blissful love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've truly arrived as a South Park fanfic writer by having Eric and Kyle make love down by the fire in one of my stories. I saw the opportunity and couldn't help myself. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and please tell me your thoughts because I'd love to hear them! As always, thank you so much for reading!


	10. A Question of Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this chapter being later than usual, it went through a couple of edits and university has been keeping me busy. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thank you for reading!

Impossibly happy, that's how Eric liked to describe his current state of bliss. Impossible because he thought his heart was close to withering under such secluded, severe conditions. Impossible because despite all the beautiful, marvellous things that could be found on the mountain, he would never have suspected to find love… serving him in a supermarket, lying in his bed.

Even when the snow had melted from the mountain, Eric was in a perpetual winter, due to the slouching clouds and the storms concentrated at the peak of the mountain. And perhaps he had been here so long that the winter was ingrained into his being, freezing him to the bone. Kyle was spring, with his lush green eyes, sun-speckled skin and hair as red as any wildflower, with his optimism and warmth and compassion. Winter could easily be envious of spring, frustrated by it, confused by it but it is spring that brings sunlight and verdure and budding life. Eric had been stubborn at first, adamant to not let the prepossessing sun break through the clouds he had grown used to. But it had shone too brightly – _Kyle_ had shone too brightly – and Eric was helpless to resist the replenishing of his brittle heart not so lonely anymore, unwilling to deny how exhilarating it felt, how completed he found himself now that his heart was firmly nestled in the embrace of Kyle's.

The distant sound of chirping birds could be heard over the sound of Eric and Kyle's faint panting. It had been four days since their consummation by the fire, and Eric wondered if it had ever ended, since it had only exacerbated their desire for one another. Like this morning, it had been their first thought upon waking. Eric had stirred at the sudden weight on top of him, his eyes fluttering open to reveal Kyle placing languid kisses on his face. Eric quickly captured Kyle's lips and soon they were tending to each other's morning erections… far more satisfying than a cold shower.

Kyle spoke first. "We should start our mornings like this more often…"

Eric had been looking outside, the December sun was startling and the clouds bobbed in the sky, fragmented like ice on a frozen lake. He slowly raked his gaze over Kyle; his body was sheening with sweat, his curls dishevelled, and his eyes were glowing with simmering arousal. Eric shuffled closer to him, and inhaled that irresistible musky scent that mingled with his own. Kyle waited patiently while Eric admired him, a coy smile on his face.

"We could go again, if you want?" Eric asked.

Kyle chuckled, his own gaze trailing over Eric. "You know, when we had sex the first time I had no idea you would be so insatiable."

Eric flushed and shook his head, he was still sheepish about this passionate side of him that Kyle had enlivened. Besides, he didn't want Kyle to think he was keeping him anything other than satisfied.

"Not insatiable..." he murmured, placing a kiss on Kyle's shoulder.

"Then what?" Kyle smirked.

Eric grinned and climbed on top of Kyle before he answered him, loving the way Kyle's eyes flashed and rose to meet his own.

"Wanting to be close to you," he answered. "Is that a bad thing?"

Kyle grinned and shook his head, before reaching up and pressing his lips to Eric's. While Eric adored Kyle's gentle, indulgent kisses, he was now aware of other body parts equally as tantalising as Kyle's mouth, and so taking Kyle's bottom lip between his teeth with a small tug, Eric then diverted his attention to Kyle's neck. Eric lapped at Kyle's sultry skin and he could feel the tremors in Kyle's throat when he moaned and arched into the embrace.

"After breakfast we could always come back upstairs for round two?" Kyle asked above Eric, slightly breathless.

"I'd like that," Eric murmured, smirking into Kyle's neck.

His lips had amply decorated Kyle's throat and had reached his collarbone when the faint sound of a ringing telephone floated into the bedroom.

"Is that… is that the phone?" Kyle asked, attempting to break out of his kiss-drunk haze.

"Yeah, it is…" Eric replied, lifting his head.

They both froze, Eric guessed, for very different reasons. He knew that dread was responsible for his paralysis.

"How long has it been since anyone called you?"

"I don't know…" Eric whispered, flinching when he heard the phone ring again.

"Well, aren't you going to answer it?" Kyle asked, and Eric felt his fingers weave persuasively through his hair.

"Sure…" Eric nodded, his movements stiff and slow as he slid out of bed and retrieved a pair of boxers from the floor.

Kyle had sat up now, eyes trained on Eric.

"Could it be the rangers?" he asked, the optimism so apparent in his voice.

"Probably," Eric replied, with only the smallest drop of emotion.

When he left the room, his heart was pounding with every apprehensive step and when he began his descent of the stairs he walked slowly and hesitantly, as if one of the bigger, more vicious animals had broken into the cabin and he was preparing for a terrifying encounter. Although he supposed it was an intrusion of some sort, for it could be nobody other than the rangers and Eric knew what they could take away from him with one brief call. The phone grew louder, and knowing that it could stop ringing at any second instilled some urgency in Eric and sent him rushing down the stairs.

When he reached the kitchen he almost ripped the phone from the wall, putting a brutal end to its incessant ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hey there, Mr Cartman, apologies for not calling sooner," one of the friendlier rangers was on the phone. Eric rolled his eyes, he preferred his more stoic conversations with the ranger station. "It's been a nightmare trying to get up here, this storm has been a beast! How are you holding up?"

"Yeah, fine," Eric replied, scratching the nape of his neck. "I've been fine."

"As you've probably noticed the weather has been improving. Not wonderful, or not quickly but we're over the worst of it."

"Oh, uh, great," Eric replied, rolling his eyes once more.

_Is that all you have to report on, asshole?_

"We're just calling to tell you we've cleared the pass if you needed to head into town."

Eric blinked, the news hitting him like a knockout punch but he didn't fall. He just felt numb, concussed.

"What?"

"It's now safe to leave the mountain," the ranger replied. "The pass is clear."

The words constricted Eric's heart, growing tighter until he forgot how to breathe at all, forgetting to speak since the news flooded his brain like insidious, inevitable water that his irrational, naïve dam couldn't prevent.

"Oh… oh, uh, thanks," Eric nodded, though gratitude was the last thing he felt, if he was feeling anything at all. "Thanks for calling."

"No problem," the ranger replied, his cheeriness even more nauseating. "Take care now."

The ranger hung up and the yawning, disconnected beep left a dissociating ring in Eric's ears. He heard himself place the phone back in the holder on the wall but couldn't recall performing the action. He felt the wooden doorframe against his naked back, but couldn't remember stumbling to find it. He placed a hand to his chest to feel himself breathing and found his heart, thudding against his ribcage. With great effort he shuffled to the stairs and there he started to devise how best to tell Kyle he could go, how he could bring himself to say the words. Thinking of Kyle was what he wanted to avoid. It was too excruciating to focus on the epicentre of his pain. But he couldn't hide, just like Kyle couldn't stay here with him forever, and the thought pushed burning tears into his eyes.

_I don't have to tell him. He's happy here._

_What if he wants to stay as much as I want him to? He loves me! He wants to be with me, doesn't he?_

_But it's not right… I would never lie to him…_ Will _never lie to him…_

He tried hard to conceal his tears when he reached the bedroom, and Kyle was still sat up, arms crossed around his legs expectantly.

"Was it the rangers?" Kyle asked.

_He deserves the truth. I deserve happiness, he said so, and doesn't he deserve happiness too?_

_He'd be happy at home. I'd be lonely here. I wouldn't be lonely, because I'd still have him even-_

_Even when he's back in town and I'm stuck up here? He'll forget me! He came here for a new life and it hasn't even started yet! He'll forget me in a month, tops!_

Eric nodded, hating and resenting Kyle's eagerness. How could great news for Kyle be horrible news to Eric? Perhaps 'impossibly happy' had been an eerily, too literal definition of Eric's emotional state.

"What did they say? Although…" Kyle frowned, shoulders slumping and he stroked the pelt. "The look on your face isn't exactly promising."

Eric blinked, although he shouldn't have been surprised by Kyle's perception. He had kept his tears at bay, but forcing a smile was something he was incapable of. Before Kyle, deceiving somebody with his facial expressions came easily to Eric. Lying was a means to an end, a tactic to be used on the trusting and unimportant. Kyle appeared to be the former when it came to Eric, but he certainly wasn't the latter. To lie to Kyle would be to consider his feelings irrelevant, to lie to Kyle would be a demotion, a regression back into his selfish ways. Eric closed his eyes, willed himself to speak, even if the truth was something he couldn't bear to say out loud.

_I could lose him if I lie._

_I could lose him if he goes._

_But everybody goes. I have the chance to hold onto him for just a little while longer, why should I give that up?_

_Just for a little while._

"Kyle, the uh…"

_Just for a little while, I promise._

_I could lose him._

_I could lose him either way._

_He'll forget me._

"What?"

Eric bowed his head, searching for the words but they were nowhere to be found. All he could find where tempting excuses, desperate rationalities.

_Shouldn't I believe that he won't forget me so easily?_

_I thought I believed in us, I don't know…_

_Just for a little while._

_I'm not strong enough._

_It's a risk I can't take._

"The pass is still closed," Eric finally replied, lifting his head to look at Kyle. "You can't leave yet."

Kyle went to respond, but his whole body deflated instead. He dropped his gaze, eyes wandering the pelt. Sour anger and disappointment swelled beneath Eric's lungs and he couldn't explain it nor did he want to, he just knew he hated Kyle's reaction, a hatred that was reflected in him, that had germinated in him in fact, with his recent lie.

"What's the matter?" Eric snapped. "Aren't you happy here?"

Kyle looked up, stung, and his gaze pierced Eric with immediate shame.

"Of course I'm happy here, Eric," he replied, a small dent in his brow.

"Then why do you look so damn miserable?" Eric continued, wishing he could dull his razored words, but his frosty countenance that had been previously discarded was all he could turn to.

"Because I have a home I need to go back to!" Kyle replied indignantly.

Eric shrunk back, silent and wounded.

"Eric, you've been great… amazing in fact!" Kyle continued. "And I appreciate all that you're doing for me but I have a home of my own! I have a job and an apartment with all my stuff in! So excuse me for missing those things! Excuse me for being disappointed!"

Eric opened his mouth to speak but realised he had no retort, humiliation fuelled his confused, jumbled anger and persisting devastation, and he backed down. But Kyle was waiting for him, waiting for confrontation. Eric simply denied him, shaking his head.

"Whatever…" he muttered, before storming out of the bedroom.

"Where are you going?!"

Eric heard Kyle shout.

He went to the bathroom, stood in front of the faucet and gripped it tightly. He just needed to get out of there and think, escape momentarily from what he had said. But Eric had left the bathroom door open, and Kyle was now stood in the doorway in his boxers.

"Eric, where are you going?" he asked.

"Out," Eric replied curtly, not even looking at Kyle.

"Now?" There was a twinge in Kyle's voice like a vocal chord had been snapped. "Aren't you going to have breakfast first?"

Eric gripped the sink and looked up at the mirrored shelf, seeing his fuming, humiliated expression. He pushed past Kyle to get to the bedroom, but Kyle still followed him.

"If you're trying to avoid an argument-"

"Huh?" Eric cut Kyle off, turning to face him.

Kyle was standing with his arms folded across his chest, dejected. Eric wanted to comfort him, but how could he when he was to blame? Kyle then sighed and shook his head.

"I don't want to fight with you, Eric," he admitted. "There's no need to run away."

Eric rubbed the nape of his neck, clueless as to what to say. He hung his head and remained silent, turning around and walking to his wardrobe. There was a rustling of clothes behind him, Kyle getting dressed.

"I'm going to the kitchen," Eric heard Kyle say despondently. "I'll see you down there."

Eric waited until Kyle left the room to curse under his breath, so angry that he couldn't concentrate on the simple task of picking a shirt and jeans to wear from his limited supply.

Not only did Kyle not want to argue with Eric, he didn't want to talk to him either. And the way Eric was feeling, he couldn't bring himself to look at Kyle and not be reminded of his own deception. He needed to get out, he needed the snow-covered scenery to clear his head.

He didn't even say goodbye when he left the cabin.

* * *

Eric found no answers in the forest, no explanations, only small game to take his anger out on. But not even acquiring a particularly swift doe rabbit could make his consternation dissipate and soon he was roaming the well-trodden forest aimlessly with a bleeding rabbit in his knapsack just so he didn't have to go back to the cabin and face Kyle, a potential argument, the bitter, resentful shame of his lie.

When Eric had finally returned to the cabin with dinner, he was met not with Kyle's embrace, or kisses to warm him up. Instead he received a lacklustre greeting that floated into the hallway, Kyle barely making any effort to raise his voice. Eric had sighed and responded, content to just cook dinner and call it in an early night. At least one of the perks of winter was a shadowy short day.

As usual Kyle helped with dinner, chopping vegetables salvaged from the frozen greenhouse while Eric cooked the meat. Bubbling, boiling pans and the metronomic thump of the kitchen knife meeting the chopping board had filled the silence for twenty minutes. Although Eric and Kyle were standing right next to each other they hadn't spoken. Not out of choice – for Eric, at least – but because there was nothing they could say that would sufficiently erase the awkwardness… except maybe an apology. But to Eric an apology would mean admitting he did something wrong when he was still desperately clinging to denial (among other things).

While Eric deliberated whether an apology was worth it if it meant starting a conversation, he stole occasional glances at Kyle. Guilt and pre-emptive yearning had swallowed up the previous dazzling rush and overwhelming affection Kyle elicited in him, before one phone call snatched it all away. Temporarily or forever, Eric wasn't sure.

It was usually Kyle who initiated conversations, and he was just as adept at the silent treatment as he was breaking the ice. He slid his gaze to Eric whenever he caught him staring, a reminder for Eric to not get too weighed down in his thoughts, chastising him for his distraction. But Eric didn't want to look away, didn't want to feel like a voyeur when Kyle had so willingly opened up and revealed all to him. Eric didn't want to spend another minute in silence, something that he barely noticed when alone, but was now torturous in Kyle's company when so many words were clearly imprisoned by their own pride.

"I'm sorry-"

They both jolted at the collision of their apologies, ducking their heads and snickering sheepishly.

"Y-y-you go…" Kyle offered.

Eric sighed, hating how he was being given the chance by Kyle when he should have seized it himself.

"I'm sorry, Kyle. I'm sorry I was so…"

"Insensitive?" Kyle interjected, continuing to chop a parsnip and not even looking at Eric.

Eric raised his eyebrows and Kyle coolly lifted his gaze to him, shrugging.

"Y-y-yeah, insensitive," Eric continued, struggling to meet Kyle's eyes. "All I care about is making you happy here and I guess… I, I guess it hurt a little to find out that you weren't."

"But I _am_ happy here!" Kyle protested, setting the knife down and looking at Eric imploringly. "I told you that!"

Eric frowned and bowed his head, wondering if his lie had put that happiness in jeopardy. Oblivious, Kyle shuffled closer and nudged Eric's shoulder with his nose, nuzzling him.

"I'm happy with you…" Kyle added.

His tickly curls and warm breath against Eric's clothed skin made Eric snicker, brought him into the present and out of his clouded mind.

"But I miss my regular life, Eric," Kyle continued. "I miss being able to talk to my family, I miss my apartment, I miss my job, and my stuff… I know you would do anything and go to any length to make me happy. But there are some things you can't do, and that's okay, I don't expect you to. Don't feel like you've failed, Eric. I'm just sorry that I made you feel that way when it couldn't be further from the truth."

Eric kissed Kyle's curls as if it made everything better, before wrapping his arm around him and pulling him closer. He was grateful that Kyle appreciated him so much, loved him so much, and he wondered if Kyle would keep hold of that if he were to ever find out-

_He won't find out._

"Apology accepted," Eric replied. "And I'm sorry I didn't understand before, Kyle."

"That's okay," Kyle whispered, before he snuggled Eric's chest. "In the heat of the moment things aren't always clear."

Eric gulped, knowing better than anyone how true that was.

_I'll make this right, somehow. If I ever find out what right is…_

* * *

"How do you celebrate Christmas up here?" Kyle asked, breaking a rare after dinner silence.

Eric would usually flop down on the sofa once their evening meal had finished, and Kyle would find that soft, comfortable nook and conversation that made Eric feel just as close to him as any kiss or embrace. Although apologies had been exchanged, Eric still felt anxious, antsy and Kyle's words drifted over his head with only some semblance of meaning settling on his conscience and prompting him to respond. Thankfully, Kyle didn't seem to notice, but whereas he was probably enjoying the peaceful winter night in silence, Eric was still figuring out what the least painful way to make things right was without knowing that right meant… rather, what it entailed.

"Oh…" Eric replied when he realised he still hadn't answered Kyle's question. "I don't."

The couch rustled as Kyle sat up to look at Eric, a sharp, cool lack between them where Kyle's toasty body had once rested.

"Really?" He asked with an incredulity rounded with pity that Eric found hard to tolerate.

"Who would I celebrate it with?"

Kyle shrugged and nestled into his boyfriend's loose, one-armed embrace.

"Me?" he offered.

Eric froze and blinked, momentarily stunned before he realised he shouldn't be. He flushed, a smile spreading across his face as he tentatively pulled Kyle closer.

"You want to celebrate Christmas with me?" He asked quietly, still disbelieving.

"Of course!" Kyle chuckled, rolling his eyes. "You're my boyfriend!"

Eric nuzzled Kyle's curls to hide his increasing grin, murmuring into his hair, "I'd love to spend Christmas with you…"

"And Hanukah?" He heard Kyle ask.

Eric kissed Kyle's temple and replied, "I'll celebrate Kwanza with you too, if you want… "

"Won't be necessary, two holidays is enough," Kyle replied, snickering. "But I appreciate the enthusiasm." He then turned his head and met Eric's eyes, asking, "Do you think the pass will be open by Christmas?"

Eric's brief good mood was splintered by the return of that subject and he diverted his gaze, mumbling "I, I don't know…"

He tried to distract Kyle by planting kisses on his stubbly jaw.

"Shame…" Kyle sighed. "Well, there's always next year."

_Now_ Eric had reason to be surprised. He was stunned by the euphoric astonishment that flooded his chest, subduing his doubts and glossing over them with a dazzling whitewash. He had never told Kyle that he wanted this relationship to be for the long-haul and despite the indicators that Eric hoped were a sign Kyle felt the same way, he never had such a verbal confirmation. Kyle was thinking as far ahead as next year, and Eric was fretting over Kyle getting bored with him? Losing him? Developing amnesia upon leaving the mountain? A new guilty head sprouted from the grotesque hydra of shame, and that was guilt for selling Kyle so short and believing he could be that fickle, unfaithful and uncommitted.

He couldn't apologise for that, for Eric had never outright stated his concerns. But he had to reward Kyle with some token of trust, even if it was disguised with a truth selfishly hoarded. Eric needed to give Kyle the benefit of the doubt and tell him the pass was open. It was a risk, but one he had to be brave enough to take.


	11. Fractured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must admit, a part of me did feel like I had run out of steam for this story (probably because I've been so busy with other things), and I felt the last chapter was rather lacklustre. But positive feedback from you awesome readers and getting my teeth into this eventful chapter has made me way more enthusiastic! I very rarely write scenes so 'action-packed' (for lack of a better phrase), so this was a cool challenge and I hope I pulled it off. I'd love to know what you think! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Eric had yet to tell Kyle the truth about the pass. A day turned into two, three, four, five, nearly a week and Eric had gradually fortified himself from the guilt, anger and anxiety he had previously felt with pleasant denial, transparent excuses that he believed more and more with each passing day. He had to believe them otherwise his delusional shelter would crumble and he would be exposed. But he also knew the longer he withheld the truth, the more he buried himself in intoxicating denial and procrastination the harder the fall, the more smothering the crush.

As well as an abundance of time, Eric also believed he needed to acquire certain things to be able to tell Kyle the truth. As if the truth were some other-worldly entity that could only be conjured by a spell whose components eluded him. The perfect time, the perfect place, and that was hard to gauge when Kyle was blissfully ignorant, oblivious and so trusting that it needled Eric's heart with shame. Kyle had no reason to doubt anything he had said before, and whether he liked it or not, Eric had given him a reason now. While he waited for the elusive, ideal setting Eric also clung to the belief that the opening of the pass was news Kyle wasn't interested in, that he was content where he was with Eric. It wasn't entirely delusional, this notion that Kyle was happy here, but the idea of Kyle abandoning his new life before it barely began to stay up in the mountains forever was ludicrous. The implication that a person as bright and ambitious as Kyle were to be denied to touch the lives of others was selfish and unfair, when Eric knew that making a difference to the world was something Kyle was determined to do, and something Eric knew he was capable of. Just look at what he had made of him in such a short space of time. But Kyle was happy despite his ignorance, and that was the very foundation of Eric's self-preservation barricade. He was more than willing to indulge in Kyle's ignorance if it meant he didn't have to be without him.

Hunting season was officially over (though not all animals were off limits), and Eric decided to stay in and organise his next stall for the county fair in the spring. Kyle was eager to assist him in this, and the both of them were sat around the kitchen table crowded with preserves, labelling each one.

"Okay, this one is?" Kyle asked, holding up a jar with crimson contents.

Eric glanced at Kyle, setting aside the chutney he had already labelled. He looked at the jar and was reminded of the toasty, perfumed kitchen, Kyle's chin stained with fruit and his cheeks flushed. He smirked.

"What you and I made together…"

Kyle smiled fondly to himself and as he wrote he muttered, "Raspberry jam…"

Picking up another jar filled to the brim with pink Kyle asked, "And this one is?"

Eric thought of drowsy early mornings, springy scarlet curls and heard the crunch of toast.

"Your favourite," he smiled.

"Strawberry jam…" Kyle murmured with a small grin, labelling the jar. "It's amazing, how you know what each one is just by looking at them… and be so certain about them too."

Eric shrugged. "I've made enough of them to be able to tell the difference."

"But what if you get it wrong?"

"Doesn't matter, it's not as if I'll ever find out."

"Your customers at the county fair never try out your preserves in front of you?" Kyle asked, leaning forward in his chair and smirking. "You don't offer any free samples?"

"No…" Eric chuckled, shaking his head before something occurred to him and he became suddenly shy, rubbing the nape of his neck. "You should come with me, to the next county fair."

Kyle met Eric's gaze, holding it in his special, tantalising way that still made the possibility of rejection flicker in Eric's mind, before he beamed.

"I'd love to," he replied. "I've never been to one before."

"It's fun," Eric grinned, relieved. "At least, it looks pretty fun from my stall. They have a rodeo and a fairground…"

"Is that how you celebrate all your hard-earned money?" Kyle teased. "Blowing it all on Ferris wheels and ghost trains and cotton candy?"

"No, I usually go straight home," Eric replied sheepishly.

"Well, when you take me I am not letting you go home without a little visit to the fair first," Kyle said in an almost scolding manner, determined for Eric to have fun.

"Alright," Eric muttered, smiling to himself.

Talk of not-so-distant springs and fairgrounds made the pass seem miles away, and whether or not it was open irrelevant. That is, until the ringing phone drilled through the wonderful illusion and fear lurched in Eric's stomach.

Kyle, unfazed, stood up and announced, "I'll get it-"

"No!" Eric stood up immediately, the panicked tone of his voice was drowned out by the sudden scrape of wood on wood as he pushed his chair back. "It's fine, I'll get it-"

Kyle's brow creased, but he was still smiling. He was still unaware. "But I'm already up-"

"Kyle, seriously, I'll get it," Eric said, moving quickly to block Kyle's path.

The crease in Kyle's brow deepened into a more concerned dent and he raked his gaze over Eric, trying to decipher his intentions. A small, perplexed chuckle escaped his lips.

"Why don't you want me to answer the phone?" he asked.

"I… I, um…" Eric's once firm grasp on deceit was slipping, loosening under Kyle's intent gaze. "I don't know…"

"Then we don't have a problem," Kyle said flippantly, brushing past Eric with ease.

"Kyle!" He blurted out, but before he could stop him Kyle had already picked up the phone.

There was nothing more Eric could do. He had envisioned his fortress crumbling, but he never assumed Kyle would breach the boundaries. Helpless, Eric stood there and waited with his heart in his throat.

"Hello?" Kyle said, before chuckling and shaking his head. "No, no, this isn't him- " Kyle moved the phone away from his mouth and whispered, "it's the rangers…"

Eric didn't respond, he already knew who was calling and Kyle continued talking to them:

"My name's Kyle, Eric has been kind enough to let me stay here until the pass clears…" Kyle's smile had vanished, and it was the first time Eric had to consider whether he would see it again. "Excuse me? But you didn't inform Eric of that- you did?" Kyle looked at Eric, eyes widened with betrayal. Eric's mouth opened to speak but Kyle had already averted his gaze. "No, he didn't tell me… okay, I'll let him know you called. Thank you. Goodbye."

Kyle hung up and placed the phone back on the wall. It was so silent in the kitchen that Eric was sure he heard the joints moving in Kyle's arm when he performed the action. Silence had existed between them before, and it had seemed like they had experienced every hue; awkward, nervous, sleepy, content. But this was new, this was dreaded and awful. This was devastating, and sound and conversation and warmth and forgiveness seemed too out of reach, impossible to recover. Kyle wasn't even looking at Eric, his head was bowed, but Eric could still make out his features. His eyes were shining, his breaths were ragged and his lips were pursed. Eventually he lifted his frightened gaze to Eric and fixed it there, it was torment, the look on Kyle's face. It was punishing enough, when Eric knew it was only the beginning, that he would be constantly paying for this.

Again, Eric tried to speak but he couldn't. If he had been waiting for the perfect time, this certainly wasn't it. He was forced to confess now, and the process would be excruciating. His fingers flexed, instinct urging him to reach out to Kyle and comfort him but Kyle's devastated gaze held him too tightly to move. It had also drained his mind of coherent thought that would translate into apologies and excuses. The minutes dragged on but Eric was stagnant, they both were.

Then, movement. Kyle stepped back, the small groan of the floorboards giving him away. If he were a stag in the forest who had met the steely eye of Eric's rifle that floorboard would have been a crunching fall leaf, a stray twig. The stag would have bolted at that fatal noise.

Eric finally managed to get out, "Kyle-"

It was then Kyle chose to fled, leaving Eric bewildered. He could hear Kyle sprinting up the stairs and he snapped himself out of his daze to follow him.

"Kyle!" Eric shouted from the bottom of the stairs. Kyle was already at the top and he disappeared from his view. "Kyle, wait! Come down here!"

Eric followed him and was panting when he reached the top step, eyes darting around the small, empty hallway.

"Kyle!" He shouted, before trying the bedroom door but the handle was jammed. Kyle must have wedged something under it. "God damn it..." Eric muttered, before he started to pound on the door. He shouted, "Kyle, open up! Let me in! Let me talk to you!"

"Talk to you?! Talk to you about what?!" Kyle replied, his voice carrying through the door. "You want me to let you in here so you can lie to me some more?! Or do God knows what to me?! Why did you even lie to me in the first place?! Why should I believe anything you tell me?! I… I… Oh fuck…"

Eric winced at the implications Kyle was conjuring in his panicked mind, and he tried with his all his strength to twist the stubborn doorknob.

"Kyle, it's not like that! You know it's not like that! Let me explain!"

"I don't want to hear it!"

Eric finally released the doorknob with a defeated growl, seething.

"You can't lock yourself in there!" He yelled. "This is my fucking bedroom now open up!"

"I have to go home…" Eric heard Kyle say desperately to himself. "I have to get the fuck out of here…"

Panic had been quickly flooding Eric's mind and now he was in danger of drowning in it. He had to talk to Kyle, he had to see him, he had to stop whatever his alarmed mind was planning right now before hysteria got the better of both of them. Helpless, Eric began to rattle the doorknob again.

"God damn it, Kyle, let me in!" He begged. "Please let me in!"

A new noise floated from under the door. Not muttering, whispering, or anxious pacing, but the unlatching of the window, igniting terror in Eric so pervasive that it shook from every pore.

"Kyle?" He asked, pressing his ear to the door, unable to raise his shrunken voice.

No answer.

"Kyle?!" He yelled. "What the hell are you doing in there?! Kyle, answer me!"

Silence. New again. This time, horrifying.

Eric drifted away from the door feeling completely weightless. Panting and trembling, he realised that he would have to break the door down if he wanted to get in that room, but how could be break it down when fear had drained him? Adrenaline. Kyle. The former was what he had to call upon for strength and the latter was where he could find it. Rolling his shoulders back and willing his shakes to subdue, Eric stepped back, glared at the door like a football player may glare at the opposite team, the way a bull might glare at a matador, and charged, using the force of his massive, bulging shoulder in the hopes of forcing the door open, flinging it off his hinges.

The first attempt was unsuccessful but he swore he could hear something splinter, feel something shift. The wall rattled, and seething Eric backed away once more, prepared himself, rolled his shoulders though now one felt numb. He charged again and the hinge fell away from the doorframe, lopsided and impotent. Eric stumbled into the room like a bewildered, defensive bear. He felt too big, unnatural and clumsy, his body aching. His threadbare breathing filled the room as he examined it, saw that Kyle had moved the small nightstand and propped it under the doorknob, it now lay on the floor, drawers opened.

The window was open, the curtains fluttering and the snow floating in but Kyle wasn't there. Eric gulped, blinked, his eyes stinging from the sweat that had gathered on his lids.

"Kyle?" The name slipped out of his mouth, fragile and threadbare.

Eric stumbled to the window and peered out, plunging his searing face into the cold. He looked down and saw Kyle in the snow, struggling to get up. He had jumped from the window, the drop wasn't large but foolish to attempt. Eric watched, stunned, as Kyle picked himself up and it was only when he started to run through the snow did urgency pull Eric from his shock.

"Shit!" He muttered, his adrenaline rushing him out the bedroom, down the stairs and out the front door.

"Kyle!" He called out before running into the snow.

The layers of snow and whatever injury Kyle had obtained from his jump made it easy for Eric to catch up to him, tackling him to the ground. Despite their exhaustion, they were vehement in their struggle, swift and strong and relentless, even if their weary panting betrayed them, the sweat that glistened on their faces even in the freezing temperature.

"Let me go!" Kyle demanded, determined to wriggle out of Eric's grip. "Get the fuck off me!"

"No!" Eric replied, gruff and preoccupied with holding Kyle down.

"Let go of me, Eric!"

Through the snowfall and the blur of restless, fighting limbs, Eric was trying to recall Kyle's beautiful, expressive face. Flashes of memory, Kyle looking at him with exasperation, amusement, fondness, ecstasy sliced through the frantic present, but not long enough for Eric to capture. He mourned those wonderful expressions, fought off the notion that this furious, contemptuous Kyle was the last he'd see.

Eric squeezed Kyle's wrists and pinned him to the snow, bearing down on him and unwittingly putting pressure on Kyle's injury. An ankle, he realised, sprained. Kyle cried out and seized beneath Eric, his face was flushed with pain and tears erupted from his eyes sealed tightly shut.

"Kyle?!" Eric exclaimed, horrified with himself. "Oh God, I'm sorry-"

Kyle head-butted him, and dazed, weakened, Eric relinquished his grip and Kyle hastily took the opportunity to escape. But he was in too much pain to flee, to move. He sunk, whimpering, into the snow. He propped himself up with his hands, every movement sluggish and he was swaying. Tears roamed his reddened cheeks and his glistening eyes were boring into Eric.

"Now you're sorry?!" He seethed.

Eric was sat in the snow too, some distance between them. He pressed a hand to his forehead, skull throbbing. His threadbare breaths were intertwined with the wind and Kyle's gaze was like a resentful flame beneath Eric's heart, burning it to a crisp.

"I never meant to hurt you…" he said softly, pathetically.

"Too late!" Kyle cried.

Eric towered over Kyle when he stood up, casting his wobbling shadow over him. He felt like he could collapse any minute. He stared at Kyle with weary eyes, and he refused to focus in Eric's filmy vision. But Kyle's anger that brimmed over his broken, bewildered form was still clear.

"You need to come back with me…" Eric said, voice weak, every word was effort.

"What?!"

"You have to… your leg… I need to talk to you…"

"I don't want to go anywhere with you!" Kyle cried. "I'd rather stay out here and freeze!"

"Kyle…" Eric's face crumpled in despair and he staggered forward. Kyle flinched and tried to back away. "Please…"

Eric held out his hand for Kyle to take but he turned his head.

"No!" He shouted. "Leave me alone!"

A defiant, stubborn move but Eric could see the fresh tears threatening to fall from his lashes, his pursed, conflicted lips. It only made Eric feel more wretched, to see Kyle sobbing in the snow. He exhaled, and his heart creaked.

"Come on," he murmured and before Kyle could protest, he shoved his hands under his arms and lifted him up.

"Eric, put me down!" Kyle demanded, but Eric ignored him.

He had to be careful, not wanting to aggravate Kyle's injury when he placed him over his shoulder. But Kyle whimpered and groaned in pain anyway, and Eric winced, hitching him up delicately to ensure Kyle was secure.

"Put me down!" Kyle exclaimed, punching Eric's back as he returned to the cabin. "I don't want to go back! I want to leave, put me down now! Eric!"

Eric ignored him, put up with the feeble punches, and focused on mentally locating the first aid kit he knew he had in the cabin somewhere. He was detached, resigned, trying to accept the consequences of his reckless decision and deal with them accordingly. But he still felt angry, still felt upset, still felt cheated.

* * *

In his haste, Eric had left the front door open to chase after Kyle and the stark daylight that stretched across the dim, exposed hallway and the wispy snow that had blown in made the cabin appear bleak and uninviting. Eric kicked the door shut behind him, the slam hard enough that it bellowed through the house and he gently set Kyle down, finally granting his request to be released.

Kyle stumbled as his feet met the floor, scrambling in his much-wanted freedom and not knowing how to adjust his equilibrium when he was unable to put weight on his one foot. But that didn't deter him from putting as much distance as he could between he and Eric, limping and wincing and Kyle's eyes were trained on Eric as he backed away, unable to estimate his next move. Wariness was familiar to Eric and he understood it from strangers, but Kyle had always been so brave.

Kyle clutched the bannister of the stairs to support himself, shoulders hunched and breaths coming rapidly. Eric frowned at such a vulnerable display, felt his charred heart tighten at seeing Kyle so scared, and hated how it was all his fault. He kept his distance, kept the moment calm and impatient.

"Kyle, none of this was to hurt you," he finally spoke. "You have to understand that. I thought I was doing the right thing…"

As his tone melted into imploration Eric stepped closer, unsurprised when Kyle flinched and backed away although it still stung.

"I know what this must look like and… a-a-and it's awful," Eric continued, swallowing the lump in his throat after he had admitted the nature of what he had done. "I feel awful but I wanted to do what was right, I thought this was right-"

"Lying to me?!" Kyle snapped. "You felt lying to me was right?!"

"It's not like that!" Eric argued, voice straining with desperation. "I didn't think…" he ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the rationalities he thought he had been so sure of. "The rangers called me a-a-and they told me the pass was open and all I could picture was you leaving me and it was all too much! I couldn't bear it, Kyle, I can't bear to think of my life without you now and when I had to tell you I just-"

"Lied?!"

Eric wished Kyle would stop saying that word, and even though he knew what Kyle's response would be, he stepped closer. Kyle had no other choice but to back himself up against the wall. He was trembling, and Eric could see his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"Panicked," Eric released the word in a single, defeated breath. "I… I, I panicked."

Another silence, also new. Deliberating, suspicious and – to Eric, at least – asphyxiating. Kyle's doubt was choking him. And although Kyle could doubt Eric's justifications, he couldn't doubt that Eric loved him. An unmatched, wholehearted love. A love that Eric still believed to be reciprocated, that still existed beneath Kyle's anger and only exacerbated the severity of Eric's actions.

"I was scared," Eric continued, voice soft. "I was scared that if I told you the pass was clear I'd lose everything. Kyle…"

Eric lifted his hand and reached out to touch Kyle, but Kyle recoiled like Eric's fingers were a band of hissing cobras.

"No!" He shouted, batting Eric's hand away. "Don't touch me!"

Head turned, Kyle was still shaking and his cheeks were still dewy with tears. Kyle's rejection left Eric reeling, his hand withering as he retrieved it. Kyle had always welcomed his touch, had requested it coyly and begged for it in earnest but now he was cautious, as if it were dangerous. It was then Eric realised that Kyle wasn't just angry with him, he was _afraid_ of him, and on this day filled with pain nothing had hurt more.

Hanging his head in shame, Eric backed off, giving Kyle the space he obviously wanted and needed. His bitter green eyes had been staring at the floor contemplatively, but when he finally lifted them to Eric his previous fear was assuaged by rage and disdain, Kyle's own personal fortress. When Eric looked closer, he detected the small flare of Kyle's nostrils, his tight, pursed lips barely containing all the vitriol he had ready to unleash.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" He asked, his voice not cutting through the silence, but making an incision deep enough to rouse discomfort. "Or would I have had to spend the rest of my life up here with you if not for that damn phone call? I mean, what the fuck did you think you were doing, Eric?! _Were_ you thinking at all?! You said you panicked but is that the truth? Or are you just that… that… _calculating_?"

Eric winced, averting his gaze and shaking his head. He tried to will away what Kyle was implying, denying Kyle could think such things about him.

"No…" he murmured, before raising his voice and pleading, "no, you know it's not like that…"

"Oh, I do, huh? I thought I knew a lot of things, Eric!" Kyle continued, voice sharper, cutting deeper. "I thought I knew the real you but I have no idea who you are anymore! Maybe this is the real you!" Kyle gestured reproachfully to him then. "Maybe you're a better actor than I thought! Maybe this kind of twisted, possessive, _sick_ behaviour is what I should expect from somebody who hasn't had real human interaction for nearly twenty years!" Kyle's voice broke then, fissured, and tears swam there. "You don't get to fucking keep people, Eric! You have no right to lie to me and keep me up here just because you, you… love me! If this is what you think love is! When I'm just as much of an acquirement to you as those poor mounted heads on the wall!"

Eric's restraint, his ability to withstand such horrid accusations and assumptions gave way.

"Shut the fuck up!" He roared, clenching his fists and storming over to Kyle.

Kyle flinched then and hobbled away, but still Eric's shadow towered over him. Eric's eyes burned with the intensity of his glare, angry breaths compressed through his nostrils and it was only when the initial tide of offense, of rage subsided did he realise what he had morphed into in Kyle's eyes, what he had reduced Kyle to; frightened, broken, paranoid. Why should he be mad at Kyle when he had so much to be ashamed of? When he was responsible for all of this because of his own malignant fears?

Eric's gaze grew misty and he shook his head. He needed to think, he needed to escape this destructive stage where so much disaster had happened, he needed to get out. Brushing past Kyle, Eric stomped upstairs and entered his ruined bedroom, grabbing his rifle from the top of his closet. Kyle glanced at him when he heard Eric descending the stairs, eyes flashing warily at the sight of Eric's rifle. Eric grimaced at Kyle's fear, and headed for the front door, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack.

"Where are you going?" Kyle asked.

"Out," Eric replied, opening the door. The wind was howling now and he sighed at what he was leaving behind, so precious and so precarious. He asked Kyle over his shoulder, "you'll be here when I come back won't you?"

_You won't run away again?_

That was what he really wanted to ask.

Kyle didn't answer, and so Eric turned around, facing him properly.

"I'll be here," Kyle nodded, staring hard at Eric. "But only because we need to talk."

Not the grandest reassurance, but a reassurance nonetheless. Eric nodded and left the cabin, for the first time in weeks reaching into his jacket pocket and locking the door behind them. Their trust was now fractured.


	12. Holding On

When Eric returned to the cabin after a barely an hour of wandering around the forest, Kyle was still sat on the stairs. He looked limp and nervous, wringing his hands at his lap, and he listlessly trailed his gaze over Eric when he walked through the door. Eric had arrived home empty-handed, mind too preoccupied with what was waiting for him at the cabin to make the impromptu trip a successful one. His footsteps had been weighted with anxiety, his concentration waning as his thoughts were tethered to Kyle. His questions, his disappointment, Eric's own responsibility to go back and at least salvage what was left of his and Kyle's relationship was pulling him away from the trees, the animals, the mountain he took such solace in, and to the man who had crept into his heart.

Kyle had not greeted him, and it was as if no time had passed between their struggle in the snow and the explosive argument that followed. Eric tried to smother the disappointment welling up in his chest, setting his rifle down and removing his jacket.

"Why did you do it?"

"Huh?" Eric asked, placing his jacket on the hook on the back of the door and turning to Kyle.

Kyle sighed and stared at his fidgeting fingers, like asking the question the first time was exhausting enough.

"You know… why did you lie to me?" he asked, lifting his head. "Why did you even feel the need to deceive me?"

There was only one answer Eric was prepared to give, the simple, surface truth that glossed over the unpleasant, debilitating insecurities. But even though that truth was a pure, beautiful mask to a deeper, darker creature, it was also a necessary vein that struck right to the core, which illuminated the murkiness like a lightning bolt.

"Because I love you," he mumbled, averting his gaze.

"What?"

Eric closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat, slowly raising his head to look at Kyle.

"I said, because I love you." Louder, though his voice had wobbled.

Kyle blinked, and Eric saw his features tremble. Placing his hand on the wall for support, Kyle stood up as straight as he could manage.

"I think I'm going to need more than that," he replied with a composure Eric could only wish for.

Eric shook his head, too weak for further extraction, and he felt inadequate, like Kyle wasn't satisfied with all he had to give.

"There is nothing more," he argued. "I love you, Kyle."

Despite acknowledging that Kyle wanted distance (as hurtful as it was), Eric stepped closer. It was instinctive, subconscious and it only registered with him that he had taken a step forward after the fact. Kyle didn't seem to notice or mind, not flinching or cowering. He was the fearless, stubborn Kyle Eric had met a little over a month ago.

"You can't just use that as an excuse," Kyle pointed out, and his voice was soft and unconvinced.

"It's not an excuse, it's the truth," Eric protested, closing the gap between him and Kyle more assuredly now. Still, Kyle didn't waver, not even when Eric was right in front of him. "I've never loved anyone more."

The admission sent Kyle searching for the truth in Eric's eyes, but he quickly lowered his gaze as if staring too long would lead to a forgiveness he wasn't ready for, that Eric didn't deserve just yet. But Eric needed Kyle to look, needed Kyle to see how much he meant to him so he could begin to understand even if he couldn't forgive. Eric needed to know that Kyle still loved him, that he didn't totally abhor him, that he still had a chance to make this right.

Keeping his forlorn gaze on Kyle, Eric lowered his head and found Kyle's lips, their mouths in a tentative clasp.

_If this is over, if he hates me, at least I get to do this one last time._

Eric was expecting to be shoved away, and yet Kyle lingered. He didn't want to open his eyes nor did he need to, he could feel the brush of Kyle's lips against his own, feel his warm breath and savour it blind. When their mouths met once again, Eric's brow furrowed first in confusion and then in concentration as he now had the opportunity to pour all those reckless, heady emotions into the kiss, to express and explain himself wordlessly (he wasn't the most articulate after all).

Their lips were hot and wet and stinging and close enough that they could spill secrets, or lock each other in battle. Eric could feel the warmth coming off Kyle's face, both their cheeks streaked red with passion and frustration, flaring with confusion. His hands found Kyle's sides, the material of his shirt creased beneath his fingers, while Kyle gripped and tugged at Eric's hair, his other hand grabbed his shoulder and he sunk his fingers in. They had never kissed each other so hard, practically kissing each other numb, as if all the resentment and betrayal and desperation and love were so loud it were deafening. As if they weren't close enough, Eric pulled Kyle from the stairs and wrapped his arms around him. Kyle held onto him tighter, his feet barely touching the floor. Eric never wanted to put him down, would they ever be this close again? Or had he wrecked it all? His eyes burned and tears pooled at his lashes.

Eric tried to ignore them, not wanting anything to separate him and Kyle, even his unruly emotions. But the sobs were building up in his throat and they needed to be released, he needed to breathe.

"I'm sorry," Eric sobbed, breaking the kiss. "Kyle, I'm so sorry…"

Through his watery gaze he saw Kyle's agonised face, his own gleaming eyes and flushed lips pressed tightly together. Eric felt Kyle's fingers softening in his hair, clutching a handful. Eric pressed their foreheads together and captured Kyle's lips again, brief, tender.

"But please, don't leave..." he begged, face creased and shining with tears. Another desperate kiss. "Don't leave me, please!"

"I have to!" Kyle exclaimed, frustrated. He cupped Eric's face and looked into his brimming, glistening eyes.

Sniffing, Eric noticed that Kyle's face was wet with tears too, and he wondered if they belonged to them both. They exchanged terse, shattered breaths.

"I have to…" Kyle whispered, before he raised his voice and added, "But we should talk about this, Eric. We should sit down and discuss this properly."

Eric felt himself deflate, but he nodded at Kyle's suggestion anyway. He was rewarded with Kyle thumbing at his cheek, swiping at his tears. He felt it would be the only consolation he would get from Kyle, the only consolation he deserved.

* * *

They sat at opposite ends of the table in the kitchen, and silence had never felt so torturous. Eric's hands were clasped together, fingers knotted in thought (or prayer) as he tried to formulate a sentence and find the guts to say it out loud. Usually, Kyle filled silences such as these but he had suspended his duty. Instead he sat, passively cruel and patient, waiting for Eric to speak. For once, Kyle had nothing to say and Eric was required to do the talking, the explaining and the apologising.

Gulping, Eric then lifted his head to look at Kyle and he didn't even flinch, tired and fed up of chasing answers. The least Eric could do was offer them up, earn back whatever respect Kyle had held for him. He sighed.

"I didn't tell you that the pass had opened because I was afraid," Eric admitted.

"Afraid of what?" Kyle asked.

Thumbs fidgeting, Eric's gaze wandered around the room as he tried to muster up the courage to reveal the uncomfortable truth. "You leaving me…"

"But I would have had to go home eventually, Eric," Kyle pointed out, shaking his head. "You realise that?"

"Yeah, I realise that," Eric murmured.

"Then why did you lie?"

"I panicked, I told you that," Eric replied, edgy, not wanting to reiterate how irrational he had been. "I'm not stupid, Kyle, I… I know I can't give you everything you need. We're different people and this lifestyle isn't what you want, it can't compete with what's below this mountain. _I_ can't compete with it, Kyle. What am I in comparison to all these great opportunities that are waiting for you?"

Kyle was listening as intently to Eric as he always had; with fascination or affection or both. But the tiny crease in his brow, his wide, searching eyes and tight frown indicated pity, an emotion Eric would've usually discouraged. This time, he considered, pity could be useful, beneficial in pleading his case.

"You could easily forget me…" Eric continued, before closing his eyes briefly to prepare himself for a possibility that would devastate him. "You could meet someone who's perfect for you. Someone who's kind, and smart, and sociable, and strong, and doesn't do weak, pathetic shit like this… and they would deserve you. You came into my life and you changed me, Kyle. For the first time in a long time I don't want to be alone. The thought fucking terrifies me. I don't know if I could bear it if you weren't here, if you ever forgot about me. Long ago, I would have loved that. I ran away so I could start over and leave people behind and let myself fade from their memory, but I don't want that anymore. It sounds ridiculous now, but I wanted you to remember me and love me and I thought the only way I could achieve that is if you were right here."

Eric winced as he let his words settle, his heart stinging. He wondered if it was creaking with the release of all he had bottled up, if it were a pang similar to that of an empty stomach, except his heart was strained and bruised as well as depleted.

"I will never forget you, Eric," Kyle replied, and Eric stared at him hopefully. "Good or bad, I can't ever forget you. But you can't hold onto everything forever. Yes, it's admirable to try but it's also destructive. I hope you can see that now. You can't keep me here, Eric. But you shouldn't confine yourself to this place either. No matter how solitary and peaceful and perfect this cabin is in its own strange way it's not the real world," Kyle averted his gaze and sighed, forlorn. "I thought that we could experience the real world together… I thought that we could compromise and figure out a balance but perhaps we were both naïve."

Eric's lips parted and his eyes flashed a collision of confusion and panic like thunder and lightning.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"How could we compromise when communication is clearly an issue for us?"

"Then we'll just have to work on that, right?" Eric argued, trying to smile however desperately optimistic he looked, a sad, but admirable plaster over his anxiety. "That's what couples do, isn't it? They try to fix the things that are broken?"

The questions weren't rhetorical, Eric genuinely had no idea what he could do or Kyle could do or hopefully _they_ could do to save this, but Kyle was sure to know.

"I'm not sure, Eric," he replied. "Maybe the damage is too great."

"Kyle, I… what are you saying?" Eric asked, wanting to get out of his chair. He wanted to stand and fight or get on his knees and beg, but he was afraid to move.

Kyle shook his head, his face fissured with overwhelming emotion and he dragged his hands through his curls.

"God, I don't know!" He exclaimed. "I'm so confused right now and I'm not sure of anything… especially you. How can I trust you, Eric?"

"Kyle, I said I'm sorry, I don't know what else I can do!" Eric despaired, a lump rising in his throat. "I can't take it back, I know, but I'll do anything to make this better!"

Kyle wasn't looking at him. His watery gaze was faraway, floating on the deep ocean of his thoughts. Eric watched his chest rise and fall, counted each breath and waited for Kyle's solution.

Finally, Kyle looked at him and said:

"Take me home."

Of all the words that anyone could have said to break him, Eric never anticipated those three. He exhaled shakily and hung his head.

"Okay," he replied, raising his voice so Kyle could hear. "First thing tomorrow, I'll take you back."

"Thank you," Kyle whispered.

* * *

When their discussion ended, when Eric promised to return Kyle to his apartment it were as if a spell had been broken and time, and space, and pain that had been suspended and frozen like a comatose princess came flooding back to both of them. They both remembered Kyle's injured leg and after some tentative questioning Eric deduced that Kyle had most likely sprained his ankle. Retrieving his first aid kit from a cupboard in the kitchen and bandaging his ankle, Eric had then instructed Kyle to rest his leg on a chair. He had then bundled some ice from the freezer into a bag and began applying it to Kyle's injury.

"How's this?" Eric asked, kneeling beside Kyle and petting his swaddled ankle with the icepack.

"Fine," Kyle replied, not looking at him. "Thanks."

"No problem…" Eric murmured, glancing between Kyle's frosty countenance and his injury. "If your ankle really is sprained then you should be resting it for a couple of days."

Kyle slid his gaze over to him slowly. "Yes?"

"Well, then maybe going home tomorrow isn't such a great idea," Eric continued, trying to be as measured as possible. "You should stay until your leg is better at least."

"But wouldn't a doctor recommend that I exercise as soon as possible? Even if it's just walking?"

"Yeah, if you're not in pain."

"I'm not in pain," Kyle said, shifting in his seat as best he could before he added, "excruciating pain, at least… it's not a big deal, Eric, I'm fine."

"You sure?" Eric asked, clinging to concern.

"Yes!" Kyle insisted. "Trust me, I'll cope."

"I'm just trying to look out for you…" Eric murmured.

"Still, I can't stay here…"

Eric was getting good at smothering the hurt Kyle's punishing words elicited in him, and he focused on treating Kyle's sprained ankle and not dwelling on his bruised emotions. His duties now were to tend to Kyle's injury and take him home, but what then? Was Eric supposed to drop Kyle off at his apartment and leave Kyle bitter, in pain and alone? Vulnerable? Eric would certainly take no satisfaction from that, he would only be happy if they were together.

"What if I came home with you?"

Kyle turned to Eric with wide eyes, startled enough to make Eric freeze.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Well… you don't want to stay here," Eric began to explain, heart fluttering with nervous hope. "So what if I took you back to your apartment and helped you out until your leg is better? I could cook, and clean, and get your groceries?"

Kyle listened patiently and every word seemed to thaw out that affection that had been buried beneath resentment and bad, hasty decisions. He smiled, and it softened the surprise persisting in his gaze.

"You… you would really do that?" Kyle whispered.

Enchanted and invigorated, Eric nodded and knew he would do anything for him. Kyle's smile widened, and Eric could make out the gleam of his teeth, the encouraging sparkle of his eye before reality once again crowded around their situation, reminded Kyle of what had transpired that made him so desperate to leave.

"I can't expect you to do that, Eric," he sighed, shaking his head. "I can't expect you to leave this place."

"But I want to!" Eric pleaded. "I want to make sure you're okay!"

"No, I need to be on my own," Kyle closed his eyes and ran a hand through his curls. "We both need some time apart."

"But, Kyle I-"

"Please, Eric!" Kyle snapped. "I don't want to talk about this anymore, alright?"

Eric winced at Kyle's tone, but he sighed and nodded. He wanted there to be minimal disagreement in the short time they had left in the cabin, and he continued pressing ice to Kyle's ankle.

* * *

They ate dinner in silence, although the food remaining on their plates indicated that their lack of conversation wasn't due to wanting to savour their meal. Eric's appetite had certainly vanished, no other need or ache or craving could compare to how much he wanted Kyle's forgiveness.

Instead of retiring to the living room and filling up the evening with stories and anecdotes and untamed thoughts that trust had allowed to roam free, they sat at a distance on the couch and turned to the TV for entertainment. The picture was a grainy blizzard, the audio muffled and scratchy but at least it was a distraction. A decent enough distraction that it seemed in no time at all the day had settled into its nightly mould, justifying their exhaustion and their desire to rest.

"It's getting late, huh?" Kyle piped up.

Eric nearly jumped at the sound, but knew he could always count on Kyle to speak first.

"Yeah," he replied, a slight rasp to his voice from lack of use. "Maybe we should call it a night."

Kyle nodded, which Eric took as his cue to stand up and leave. He was almost out of the living room before he realised Kyle wasn't following him. Instead he was sat on the couch, staring contemplatively at the fading fire.

"Is something wrong?" Eric asked, his concern driving him back into the living room. "Is it your leg?"

"Sort of, um…" Kyle paused, hands clasped and restless at his lap. Eric couldn't remember if he had ever seen Kyle this shy. "Could I have a blanket?"

Eric's brow furrowed but he nodded, wanting to be agreeable.

"Sure, but don't you think the pelt is warm enough?" he replied.

Kyle took a deep, uncomfortable breath and closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose. "No, I mean, can I have a blanket to sleep down here?"

Eric blinked, dizzied by a rejection he never anticipated.

"Oh…" he whispered, averting his gaze.

"I think it would be easier for me," Kyle explained. "Walking upstairs could prove to be difficult."

"Right…" Eric nodded quickly, trying to understand or at least appearing like he did. "Yeah, no problem."

"Thanks," Kyle smiled weakly.

Eric left the room, wanting to abandon the discomfort before he choked on it although he was already fighting tears. He had once considered himself sturdy and resilient, but how long had it been since he had given anybody the opportunity to hurt him? Yes, Kyle's behaviour was expected and perhaps what Eric had deserved but he felt like a stubborn black bear, pierced with bullets and limping and bloodied from pursuit. There was a quick, relentless hunter wanting to claim him for his own but soon either one would have to admit defeat. Eric wanted mercy, but doubted he would get it.

Fetching the blanket that had been neatly folded away under the stairs since Kyle had begun to share his bed, Eric returned to the living room and handed it to Kyle.

"Here…"

"Thanks, Eric," Kyle replied softly, unfolding the blanket.

Eric had already begun to walk away and head for the kitchen. He didn't want Kyle's last night in the cabin to be cold and miserable, he hated the thought of Kyle remembering his time there that way, when despite the catastrophic consequence of his lie, Eric would remember these blissful weeks with warmth and joy. So he made Kyle hot chocolate, the peace offering that had paved the way for something that could have been harmonious - that was certainly miraculous.

When the beverage was ready, Kyle had already turned the lamp off and cast the living room in darkness. Eric was slow and careful making his way over to him, brimming mug in hand.

"Good night," he whispered, placing the hot chocolate on the table by the couch.

"Good night," Kyle's voice glimmered in the shadows.

Eric hid his smile and didn't wait for Kyle to acknowledge the drink before he left. He had begun to ascend the stairs when he heard the lamp switch on, the leather couch cushions squish as Kyle sat up. He pursed his lips at the thought of Kyle wrapping his fingers around the warm mug and inhaling that sweet, cocoa smell.

* * *

Hours had passed and Eric was barely sleeping, unable to slip contently into slumber without Kyle beside him and so much uncertainty between them when tomorrow promised to bring more. The faint, tentative creak of the floorboards was enough to make Eric stir and he glanced at the naked doorway, awaiting further noise. The creaks continued and distinguished themselves as footsteps drawing closer. They soon were interspersed with small, wispy huffs of exertion that only made them sound more clumsy and uneven.

"Kyle?" Eric asked drowsily.

"I couldn't sleep," Kyle responded, hobbling into the bedroom.

"Me neither."

"It was cold."

The starlight revealed Kyle to be limping, his face stubbornly impassive. He was near the bed and Eric threw the pelt back to welcome him. The springs of the mattress groaned when Kyle unceremoniously sat himself on the bed, and his movements were stiff and hesitant as he lay down. When he was sure Kyle was uncomfortable, Eric covered him. He could hardly believe his luck, wondered if Kyle's presence was just a fever dream of strained slumber.

"This doesn't mean everything is fixed, alright?" Kyle said, cleverly turning his head so only his slender white neck and red, wiry beard were visible.

"Okay…" Eric murmured. He lay on his side and shuffled away from Kyle, assuming he wanted some space.

_He's next to you again and that's enough._

"Is spooning out of the question?"

Kyle's voice floated across the mattress like a message in a bottle; optimistic and half-expecting to be heard. Eric didn't reply, instead he rolled over and reached out for Kyle, holding him as gently as he could.

"No…" Eric whispered.

Kyle could most likely feel his pounding heartbeat when they were pressed so closely together.

Kyle's chest rose and fell in Eric's arms and his eyelids drooped, his restless, longing mind finally granting him sleep. Kyle's hand found Eric's easily in the dark, he intertwined their fingers and pressed them to his chest.

"I love you," Kyle confessed, squeezing Eric's hand. "God, I hate how much I love you…"

Tears scorched Eric's eyes and he gritted his teeth in an attempt to withhold his sobs. He nuzzled Kyle's curls, as if he could bury his defeat and remorse there.

"Kyle, I'm really sorry-"

"Sshh…" Kyle cut in. "Let's get some sleep, huh?"

Eric nodded, hoping the night was slow in bringing that dreaded tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only three more chapters to go until the end. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


	13. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this may be the shortest chapter so far. But hopefully it's effective. Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

When Eric woke up Kyle was still in his arms. The morning had come too soon, it seemed that he had only closed his eyes for a second before sunlight seeped into the room and behind his eyelids. Kyle remained unaffected by the new day, still sleeping soundly. His lips were parted and Eric charted the rise and fall of his chest.

Right now, in the drowsy quiet of the bedroom, Eric could've kidded himself that nothing had changed. He had never lied, never waited. His bedroom door would still be on its hinges and Kyle's ankle would be fine. Kyle would still trust him and be so optimistic for their future and Eric's fear that Kyle would leave him someday, in whatever capacity, would be confirmed to be irrational. But for now Kyle's plans were frozen and would perhaps melt away in the spring when a new job, a new opportunity, a new person came along who Kyle could love so easily. And Eric had brought his own fear to life, panic and insecurity clouding his judgement.

Sighing, Eric gently released Kyle from his arms and got out of bed so he could get dressed. He could never have held on forever, eventually he would have had to let go.

* * *

Eric was making coffee when he heard the sound of slow, cautious footsteps on the stairs. Abandoning his breakfast, he went to the hallway and saw Kyle, head bowed with his hand placed on the wall for support as he hobbled down the stairs. One foot was suspended; he obviously didn't want to put any weight on it.

Eric winced at seeing Kyle so defeated, and soured at the shame that accompanied such a sight. He was responsible for this.

"Hey," he finally spoke, wanting to fill the heavy silence.

Kyle glanced at him and then quickly averted his gaze.

"Hi…" he replied.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, no, I'm fine," Kyle answered, stubborn as ever. "Thanks."

Eric didn't return to the kitchen, he watched and waited in case Kyle changed his mind. Despite all the damage he had caused, Eric wanted to help and make up for it in even the tiniest ways, regardless whether it meant Kyle forgiving him or taking him back. He couldn't live with himself if he returned to making his coffee when he knew Kyle was struggling, if Kyle hurt himself even more on his watch.

When Kyle was close enough Eric tentatively reached for his arm, his fingers curling around Kyle's bicep. Kyle raised his eyes warily to Eric, but remained silent. And when Eric led Kyle the rest of the way, Kyle didn't look overly thrilled but didn't protest. Still, Eric let go of Kyle's arm when they reached the bottom step. He recognised how highly Kyle regarded his pride and it was something he understood, even though he felt no slither of it now.

"You hardly ever get up this early," Eric commented as they both entered the kitchen.

He was reminded of Kyle's body on top of his, kisses as gentle as raindrops on his face, his sleepy eyes adjusting to the sunlight that framed Kyle perfectly.

"Yeah, well, I just want to get home as soon as possible," Kyle replied.

"Right…" Eric lowered his gaze and focused on making his coffee. He turned his back to Kyle so he wouldn't see how hurt he was by his words.

"I mean, there's no point wasting time-"

"Sure," Eric cut in, he couldn't listen to anymore. "I get it."

Silence, but not the drowsy quiet of before. This was sluggish, exhausted and Eric knew that Kyle was just as tired of these weighted, accusatory dips in conversation, the defensiveness, and the invisible partitions of resentment and regret that were keeping them separated. No wonder Kyle wanted to go home so badly…

"Do you want some breakfast?" Eric asked, and he looked over his shoulder at Kyle.

He nodded, and sat himself in his usual chair.

"Thanks, Eric," he said softly.

* * *

As Eric and Kyle put on their coats and scarves, about to head out to the pick-up truck and take Kyle home, they both hid behind unaffected masks. Heads bowed, eyes lowered, mouths sealed shut. Kyle barely looked at the place that had been his home for nearly two months, as if he were already trying to discard it from his memory. This sanctuary that had turned into a prison. Eric's heart clenched at Kyle's disdain, a part of him wanting to grab him by the shoulders and guide him around the cabin. He wanted to show him where so many wonderful memories had bloomed and nestled, before they were curdled by his lie.

_We played cards in the kitchen, and you told me that it was the most I'd ever spoken to you. I had my first Thanksgiving dinner in years with you, sat at that table. We danced in that living room, spoke for hours on the couch, and made love by the fire. We had our first kiss in my bed, and I told you that I loved you. I still love you, no matter what you may think. If you forget everything else, then please remember that._

If Eric was brave enough he would have said all those things, but he wasn't. Besides, he didn't have time. Kyle wanted to get home as soon as possible. He bit back a sigh and looped his scarf around his neck, but noticed that the green ushanka was missing off the rack. Glancing at Kyle, Eric saw it perched on his head in its usual, lopsided fashion.

He blinked, knowing he should look away but he felt like he needed to soak up this image of Kyle wearing his hat, keeping a piece of Eric despite wanting to be away from him. This moment would sustain him over time, through the Kyle-shaped drought the rest of his life was appearing to be.

After zipping up his coat, Kyle noticed Eric staring at him. His eyebrows furrowed warily.

"What?" he asked.

Eric shook his head, hot under all his layers.

"Nothing!" he replied, a smile flickered before spreading across his face. "I just… you're wearing my hat…"

"Oh…" Kyle whispered, stroking one of the flaps. "I thought you didn't want it anymore so I-"

"I don't!" Eric cut in, he couldn't ruin this.

"You can have it back."

"No, no, please keep it," Eric insisted. "I want you to. It suits you better, anyway."

Kyle mirrored Eric's smile, like he had forgotten himself. But it was only momentary, and the smile soon faded. Luckily - a swift hunter as he was - Eric had captured it and stored it away.

* * *

Neither had spoken as they drove into town, the only sound was the truck whistling down the winding roads. They had been as silent as two dandelion wisps in the breeze, floating in the air as if they had no idea where they would land or settle. Eric could have forgotten that Kyle had practically pleaded to go home. And he could have forgotten that he had begged for him to stay.

Eric had soured when South Park finally came into view, because it was taking Kyle away from him. It hadn't taken him long to realise that perhaps he had done that himself. He had held on so tightly that Kyle had broken between his passionate, callous fingers and slid through the cracks. Eric's grip had tightened on the steering wheel. Kyle had finally spoken up to give Eric the directions to his apartment. Not far from the supermarket. The block of apartments just off Main Street. Just take a right.

Now they were sat in the parking lot, staring at the small, basic apartment block. It was a good placeholder, Eric guessed, until Kyle established more permanent roots, found a place to call his own. He thought Kyle would have thrown his seatbelt off, burst through the door and sprinted to his apartment, even with his sprained ankle. But he remained still, seatbelt on, eyes straight ahead. Eric didn't dare to say anything, with his wide eyes and his mouth drawn into a thin, unwavering line Kyle looked easy to startle right now.

"I'm going to need some help," Kyle announced, always the first to talk.

Eric blinked, as if he were being pulled from a half-dreaming state.

"With what?" he asked.

"Getting up the steps," Kyle replied. "My apartment is that one there."

He pointed to a green door on the first floor.

"Sure, of course," Eric nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Kyle copied him, not shrugging the belt off his shoulder like Eric did but releasing it and letting it slide back into place. They got out of the car and strolled across the parking lot like Eric was walking Kyle home after a first date, though a different kind of tension was wedged between them. And Eric wasn't counting on being invited in.

They reached the steps, and without question Eric gently wrapped his fingers around Kyle's arm and their feet met the first step at the same time. Each step wasn't a stride, or a sprint, or a purposeful climb, it was a lopsided shuffle, a struggle in every sense of the word. Kyle could barely lift his gaze to look at Eric.

When they reached the top, Kyle released his arm from Eric's grip, and his elbow had risen almost defensively. Eric had no choice to relinquish the hold, his fingers still curled from the phantom of Kyle's touch. He had already started to walk away, limping to his apartment but it didn't take long for Eric to catch up to him. If Kyle had told him to go back to the truck, then he would have. But he didn't.

"Thank you, Eric," Kyle said, now standing by his apartment door. "Thanks for letting me stay with you, for bringing me home."

The words were clipped, formal, like they hadn't shared so much with each other.

"No problem," Eric replied, tucking his hands in his pockets. He hoped it would come off nonchalant. But taking one look at Kyle and his injured self, made it impossible not to care. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, no, it's fine," Kyle assured, nodding. "I'll be fine."

Eric didn't reply, noticing Kyle was staring at him with that expectant look and he tried to mirror it. They were both waiting for something, but for what? A word? A hug? A kiss? The latter suggestions may have been too much to wish for. But they couldn't wait all day, Kyle had a life to return to beyond that door, and Eric had his own slice of solitude in the mountains once so coveted. Maybe that heavy look was enough? Murky and struggling, clumsily reaching out for each other in the smothering fog of mistakes. But they had to breathe, and Eric had to go.

"Bye, Kyle."

"Bye, Eric," Kyle replied, his voice fissured.

Eric smiled tightly and walked away, hands still in his pockets. Flooding memories of happier Kyle, warmer Kyle, content and trusting and loving Kyle, stopped him from looking back at the Kyle that was behind him. When he reached the parking lot it was too tempting, the distance provided a convenient excuse. Turning around, Eric saw that Kyle was still standing by his door, looking at him… waiting for him.

_No, he said he wanted space._

_I wanted to give him everything so he knows I'm good enough. That I can do this._

_Keep walking, keep walking, keep walking._

Gritting his teeth, Eric made it to the truck and hopped in. He glanced at the apartment and saw Kyle was still there. Their eyes met effortlessly. So Eric closed his, like blocking out the sun's rays. Sighing and opening them again, he started the car and watched Kyle disappear into his apartment.

_This could be the last time you ever see him._

Eric choked.

Scowling, he pulled out of the parking lot with the urge to speed out of the town and never look back. His eyes burned all the way home, and the higher up the mountain he got the more he could feel that connection between him and Kyle growing tauter and tauter until it was painful, strained, at breaking point. But Eric wouldn't let it snap, even if Kyle cut the tether himself, let it slip carelessly when a newer, better, stronger connection came along and unwanted, it sprinted back to Eric. He would still tie himself up in knots with it.

He didn't so much as park the truck as drive it into a big pile of snow pushed up against the cabin and get out. Powder sprayed from every deep, heavy step he took and he pushed the front door open. The cabin was dim in the December afternoon, and the door shut with a creak. Desolate, a husk, that's all his once faithful cabin seemed to him now, stripped of witty remarks, vibrant red, a sublime, consuming love.

The loneliness was like a defect in the house one doesn't notice right away, or becomes so accustomed to that only guests point it out. But once it's been recognised it's inexorable and merciless, and Eric saw the loneliness yawning now, wide enough to swallow the whole mountain. Despite years of hunting, Eric knew he couldn't acquire this creature, even when he had conquered the more ferocious animals of this hostile environment. Weak, bereft, he sunk to the floor and curled up, crushed beneath the jaws of isolation.


	14. Without

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would've been posted sooner, but I had some trouble figuring out the structure of it. I didn't want it to feel like just a big block of exposition, so the scenes in the cabin are more detailed than I originally thought. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading

It was the morning he half-prayed he would never wake up to. The first morning since Kyle had gone home.

Eric squinted into the pale sunlight, heard the birds sing of their displeasure of the cold. His eyes still ached from all the tears he had shed, and he was dressed in the clothes he had worn yesterday.

After he had hoisted himself from the floor, he climbed the stairs, curled up on his bed and had cried until he was exhausted. He had fallen asleep over the pelt. Dehydrated, his tongue was coarse and his head was heavy.

He hadn't dreamt, and now that he was blinking the slumber from his eyes it felt like he had been comatose not sleeping. How romantic and convenient of a notion, Eric trapped on a fierce mountain where few trespass, numb and blind the peril of it all, perfectly still as the greenhouse overgrew and the animals roamed the mountain undisturbed.

And then Kyle. Kyle would brave the storm, break the door down, stride into Eric's bedroom, lean in close and he would only have to touch Eric to break the spell. He would be there, that's all the confirmation Eric needed, Kyle would be there and he wouldn't be lonely.

For the first time in twelve years he felt lonely.

He had woken up alone countless mornings, and thought nothing of it. Had it always been this quiet? Eric yawned and stretched, rolling off the bed and making his way downstairs. He needed coffee.

He put one foot on the floorboard and the creak had a groaning echo. Was the cabin always this hollow? How had he not noticed before? Kyle had been a cool April downpour, enlivening and refreshing what Eric had kept frosty for so long. Now Kyle was gone, but the ground still glistened and everything in the cabin dripped with his presence.

* * *

Eric actually noticed Christmas this year.

For the past twelve years he had busied himself with the general upkeep of the cabin, his survival on the mountain. He had pretended he was amnesiac, after all, what was the point of reflecting on a holiday he had no one to share it with?

He spent this Christmas reminiscing about his childhood holidays. He thought of snowball fights with his grandpa, the old man's aching joints slowed him down but Eric still sprinted from him with chubby, flushed cheeks. He thought of gleaming Christmas presents under the tree, and how he hoped there would be one from his dad perhaps tucked at the back. A special surprise. His dad's Christmas presents always arrived a few days later. He thought of his mom tucking him in on Christmas Eve, soft and smiling as she answered his restless questions about Santa Claus.

But he also thought of the recent past. He and Kyle had talked about spending Christmas together. Eric felt like he had sleepwalked through those past few weeks to now. They had talked about Hanukah too, Eric remembered.

Kyle could've taught him all about him the holiday, shared his own childhood stories of celebrating it with his family, and Eric wondered if he could have carved a dreidel out of wood since he had no clay. No doubt Kyle would appreciate it, regardless of what it was made from.

They could've woken up together this morning, wished each other a Merry Christmas. Or perhaps Eric would've woken up early and driven into town to visit Kyle, so they could exchange gifts and cuddle on the couch watching festive movies. Only in Eric's imagination could he rectify his mistake, envision a present where he hadn't lied to Kyle, hadn't lost him, had been brave enough to trust someone fully. But they made no difference to his reality.

He was still sat in the kitchen alone, watching the snow fall softly outside. His memories and musings chased each other around his head, one and the same with nowhere to go.

* * *

It was New Year's Eve and the ball was dropping on the grainy TV.

Eric was lying on the couch, half asleep. He was accumulating a lot of hours there lately, the day festering around him.

He had never watched the ball drop before, always too sleepy and apathetic. But tonight he wanted to see the crowds of people, Times Square, the sparkling, promising lights that tricked the world into believing the upcoming year would be better than the last.

The countdown was beginning, and Kyle was smiling down at him with eyes brighter than a Manhattan evening.

But Eric didn't cry or laugh or shout and press Kyle close to him. He let Kyle tease a smile out of him, spreading across his face. He had been there all along.

Kyle placed a hand on his chest and brushed his lips against Eric's. His breath was warm and Eric was slow to respond, he had only just parted his lips before Kyle pulled away. Eric didn't mind, intoxicated enough from the teasing contact.

_Happy New Year_

Kyle didn't respond, smiling dumbly down at him, blinking like a faulty string of lights.

A fog of frustration crowded around Eric and his brow furrowed.

_I love you, Kyle._

You spend New Year with the people you love, don't you? Eric had no idea.

Kyle frowned, as if it were a notion he couldn't understand. Eric wanted to reach out and touch him, kiss him again, but his arms were weighted. In fact, his limbs seemed entirely disconnected from the rest of his body.

_I'm sorry. Is that what you're here for? An apology? Then I'm sorry!_

Kyle frowned and his eyes brimmed, the last thing Eric wanted was to upset him. Eric willed for his body to move, willed for Kyle to stay so he could explain himself and comfort him. But all Eric could do was watch the crease in Kyle's brow deepen, watch his frown turn into a scowl.

Then he was gone.

"Kyle!"

Eric woke up with a start, alone as always. His lips were cold and untouched, the ghost of Kyle had vanished.

* * *

According to Eric's calendar it was the middle of January.

He hadn't been hunting since Kyle left, nor had he tended to the wilting greenhouse. The thought of doing any of those tasks was exhausting, and the outcome felt futile. Before his apathy had only walled him off from others, now it seemed to be dismantling every brick of his person until he collapsed. But at least Eric didn't care.

Once he had thought of himself as the only person who had successfully ran away from their past, digging his heels stubbornly in the present. But with the present so bleak, Eric's ears were tempted by the whisperings of his recent past and staring up at the ceiling and enveloping himself in memories of Kyle seemed to fill up his day better than any chore.

Even when those memories inevitably brought him back to his lie, how afraid Kyle came to be of him, how they had parted without any discernible hope to cling to. Maybe they had, but Eric had lost it. And in his more self-loathing moments Eric vowed to himself however listlessly that the next day he would pick up his rifle and wander around the forest, he would chop some more wood for the fire, check on the greenhouse, but the apathy worked even harder in the night and he woke up just as disenfranchised as the day before.

Another morning spent in bed, Eric finally rose and went downstairs to make some breakfast. His appetite had waned considerably, and he was now managing on whatever he had left in his pantry. But looking inside, faced with the sparsely lined shelves, he felt a real gnaw of hunger for the first time in weeks.

Panic crawled up his throat, and that survival instinct that he had honed over twelve years lifted its head from the swamp of heartbreak. He had to do something. He had to get dressed, grab his rifle, stalk the forest, and not come home until he had shot something. That was the quick, superficial solution, and would guarantee a dinner at the end of the night, but what about the next week, the next month? His anxiety wouldn't let up until he had found a more substantial solution. Of course, he already knew what that was…

He would have to go to the supermarket. And for once, the dread that welled up in his chest had nothing to do with facing the scrutinising eyes of strangers. No, he was afraid of facing Kyle.

Although he had imagined their reunion countless times, it was all so safe and neat and sanitised of betrayal and resentment in his imagination. He had no idea of the shame that would paralyse him when faced with Kyle's wary eyes and disappointed frown.

Unkempt and fatigued, Eric knew he wasn't entirely ready to face Kyle again, but he had no idea if Kyle felt the same. Was Kyle just as heartbroken? Was he still as angry? Or had he moved on and disregarded Eric completely, stored him away as someone he'd rather forget? Eric didn't know what was worse; a Kyle he had ruined, or a Kyle who had turned his back on him completely.

Both prospects were terrifying, both made Eric want to stow himself away in the cabin forever. But what did that mean? Starving, dying alone, and tarnishing all his hard work to build a life here by submitting to cowardice? He wouldn't be a victim to apathy or fear. He would have a shower, get dressed, and drive into South Park. He'd had close encounters with black bears and mountain lions before, surely he could face the man he loved?

* * *

Eric was trembling as he made his way around the supermarket, he feared the handle of the shopping cart would rattle when he wrapped his restless fingers around it. He vowed to himself on the drive down here – stony faced, staring straight ahead and facing the town as if were his most formidable foe, like it had taken everything from him – to complete his shopping trip as fast as possible. He had darted across the parking lot, hands firmly tucked into the pockets of his jacket he hadn't worn in weeks and had charged down the aisles with his shopping cart so fast that he had to tell himself to calm down. He knew where all his essential items were kept, he had memorised their location. There would be no need to linger.

Still, he approached each isle with caution, anxious that Kyle would appear around the corner any minute. The row of cashiers was placed close to the sliding doors, and Eric forced himself not to look in their direction when he entered the store, not wanting to startle Kyle or himself. Though as he walked with his shoulders hunched, believing every second he spent static was a second too long in case Kyle saw him, he wished he had at least glanced at the cashiers, to assure himself that Kyle was at his usual post and not lurking around the aisles. Besides, he would have to pay for his shopping eventually…

Shopping cart full and gingerly stepping out of the aisle and onto the shop floor, Eric felt like a timid fawn emerging from the woods in melting winter. And the fluorescent lighting above stabbed his eyes like a harsh, thrumming sun. He was suddenly aware of his height, his broadness and he wished he could shrink into a phantom, evade any eyes that chose to stare. He scanned the cash registers, looking for Kyle and still unsure whether the sight of him would inspire delight or terror.

Of course Eric wanted to see Kyle again, starved as he was, but the magnitude of his desire overwhelmed him, smothered him in doubt; would they be able to converse as easily as they did before or would they be back to square one? Would Eric's words abandon him? Would Kyle ignore him? Or worse yet, flee again?

Eric's eyes followed the line of cash registers until they jarred at the sight of striking red hair, a face that Eric had become infatuated with. He had been so adverse to any type of lingering during his shopping trip, but now he reasoned it was not so bad, a risk worth taking, an addict's justification. Voyeuristic it may have been, deriving the mildest pleasure from watching Kyle; bored and daydreaming with no customers to serve. Eric could change that, but right now he was content to admire him from a distance, appreciate him from a distance like art.

But Kyle's eyes were wandering too, and Eric was just as much of a trap for his gaze. Eric watched his shoulders straighten, his impassive mouth tighten with surprise. But he didn't want to watch what happened next; instead he ground his teeth, gripped the handle of his shopping cart even harder and fled to the cash register that was the furthest away from Kyle.

He practically slammed every item down on the checkout, no doubt startling the poor girl manning the cash register. But, hey, at least he was living up to his intimidating reputation, right? His face was burning and he was so wrapped up in berating himself over his cowardice, that he barely heard the cashier tell him the total of his shopping.

"What?" he asked curtly.

"Wuh-one hundred and twelve dollars, sir…" the cashier repeated.

Eric reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his wallet, he then opened it and handed the cashier a wad of bills. Her eyes widened, but not like Kyle's had during their first encounter.

"Keep the change," Eric instructed.

The cashier nodded and Eric tugged roughly at his cart, guiding it in the direction of the doors. He ignored the cashier when she belatedly wished him a good day. Soon enough, the biting January wind hit his face and he hoped it would cool him down, he also hoped that the shame he felt over his dismissal of Kyle would dissipate along with the heat from his cheeks.

But he had done what he had to do. He had bought enough food to keep him away from this place for a while. More than that, he had put practicality before emotion, independence over fawning for what was lost. He had dressed and showered and got fresh air. He had ensured his survival once again. And his reward would be to drive home and lock himself away again, find peace in solitude and focus his attention on an idyll he had otherwise neglected, gather his world together again that he had let fall to disarray.

He had just reached the truck when;

"Eric! Eric, wait!"

Eric turned and saw Kyle jogging over to him, obviously his ankle had healed without any assistance from him. His curls fluttered in the wind, and Eric had to bite back a disbelieving smile. But of course Kyle would be stubborn enough to go after him, of course he would be the bolder of the two when Eric was so used to hiding.

"Hey…" Kyle exhaled when he reached the truck.

Eric blinked, dazzled and struck in every sense of the word. If he was a tad more naïve he would assume Kyle was a vision in front of him, but this Kyle wasn't a projection from his imagination running wild. This Kyle was different and it was as noticeable as armour, there was steeliness to his stance and countenance.

"Hi…" Eric whispered, just about audible.

There was a silence, not like a chasm keeping them apart but a pressure pushing them together until they were so close they were touching and suffocating and one of them would have to let up and speak already. Kyle was hoping it would be Eric, judging by that typical, expectant look that never lost its edge. Especially now. But Eric's throat had shrunk in fear, words accumulating but with no way of being released. Any minute now Kyle would turn around and leave without looking back, once again defeated by Eric's insecurities. But no, he would never go down without a fight. Eric knew that.

"How was your Christmas?" Kyle asked.

Eric noticed his arms were folded. He wasn't wearing a jacket and goosebumps had erupted on his pale skin.

"Huh? Oh, fine," Eric replied, heat crawling up his neck. "Fine, I guess… how was yours?"

"It was great, thanks," Kyle smiled. "I went to the staff Christmas party. That was fun… at least what I remember of it was fun," Kyle paused when they both chuckled softly. "I talked to my parents over Hanukah, it was nice to hear from them. I spent Christmas with my friend Jillian and her family, she works here. "

"That, uh… sounds nice," Eric nodded, but any cheeriness in his voice fell flat

"Yeah, it was," Kyle agreed, his gaze wandered to the gravel and Eric followed it.

He was reminded of Kyle's injury when his eyes reached his boots.

"Your ankle…" he blurted.

"Oh, it's totally better, thanks," Kyle replied, looking up at Eric again. "I went to the hospital and they told me I had to have crutches for a little while so that was interesting. I've never had to use them before."

Eric nodded, clueless as to what to say. Kyle's eyes narrowed, hardened, and Eric felt like he was wilting under Kyle's scrutinising stare.

"So, how are you doing?" Kyle asked.

Eric wanted to lie, but when had lying to Kyle ever done him any favours?

"I…" Eric gulped, his eyes stung. He ducked his head and took a shattered breath, before deciding he was brave enough to meet Kyle's stare. "I miss you."

Kyle was still, composed as ever, the only thing that moved was his wayward hair caught in the snare of the wind.

"Yeah…" he sighed. "I was wondering when I'd see you again."

"You were?"

Maybe there had been hope after all; Eric was just blind to it. Or perhaps Kyle had kept it for himself?

"Of course I was," Kyle replied, a crease in his brow.

Again, Eric was lost. It seemed Kyle always had the last word.

"Will you meet me here tomorrow?" Kyle asked, there was a glint to his voice. "I finish around four, so, maybe you can pick me up after work and we can go to that coffee shop on Main Street? We could catch up properly, then. Not in a parking lot."

Eric grinned, sensing opportunity in Kyle's glimmering words like a magpie.

"Yeah, okay," he replied, his voice bobbed with enthusiasm. "I will. I'd like that, Kyle."

"Me too," Kyle smiled gratefully. He looked over his shoulder. "I'd better head back."

Eric nodded, and watched Kyle walk away. It was then he remembered that in his shock and his existing rustiness when it came to social interaction, he forgot to ask Kyle something.

"Kyle!"

Kyle turned around.

"Yeah?"

"I, um, I forgot to ask… how are you doing?"

Eric saw him smile, crinkled and fond.

"I'm good," he replied. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure," Eric said, helpless to stop the smile spreading across his face.


	15. Meet Halfway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this. It would have been posted much sooner but deadlines and the flu got in the way. Anyway, thank you for being so patient, especially since this is the last chapter! There'll be a more detailed author's note at the end of this chapter about that, but for now thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy and I hope that this last installment is satisfying and what you wonderful readers deserve!

The day after his trip to the supermarket, Eric found himself driving down the winding mountain roads again, still in a haze of disbelief. When he had dropped Kyle off at his apartment over a month ago, he had returned to the cabin exhausted. But these past twenty four hours he had been restless, battling with excitement, curiosity and giddy nerves whilst fending off the perhaps too optimistic thoughts of reconciliation. Because despite the much needed dose of elation and trust Kyle had instilled in him during their time together, Eric's childhood fraught with opaqueness and disappointment had made him cynical.

But Eric was not so quick to dismiss the positives. Kyle no longer appeared to be wary or frightened of him, and he obviously wanted to spend time with him. If Eric needed to earn his trust again, if Kyle could never love him in the way he had, if their meeting didn't result in them getting back together then that was fine. Kyle obviously wanted Eric in his life and Eric wouldn't refuse that invitation, even if he couldn't have Kyle in the way that he wanted him. Eric would keep repeating that to himself until it were true, because he wouldn't lose Kyle again.

The closer Eric was to the supermarket, the more that haze of disbelief dispersed and reality was a loud drumming in his ears. His grip grew damp on the steering wheel and he shifted in his seat. Pulling into the parking lot he was reminded of when he had met Kyle here the first time, to take him to the cabin and teach him how to shoot. He had been so naïve then, so unaware of how miraculous and perilous that storm would be.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked across the parking lot but he wasn't cold. In fact, the rush of warm air that hit him when he entered the store was unwelcome for once. Especially when Kyle was standing not so far away, waiting for him, smiling shyly at him but his eyes glimmered expectantly.

Eric's face flushed and he fought the urge to duck his head. Was this how people felt on first dates? But this wasn't a first date, this was… Eric was unsure. He had spent hours trying to define what they were about to do, but he had no idea.

"Hey," Kyle said when Eric was close enough. God, he was wearing that hat… Eric's throat clenched and his eyes stung.

"Hey…" Eric replied. A smile spilled onto his face.

They were standing at some distance from each other. Eric remembered that Kyle had wanted space. But was that true now? He would wait and give Kyle what he assumed he needed until he was told otherwise.

Kyle sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Eric, come on, let's not pretend we…"

Eric's brow furrowed. "What?"

Kyle huffed before tentatively stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Eric. Kyle's body was stiff against his, and this was a looser clasp than Eric was used to from him, but he didn't care. It was a closeness that he had previously thought would be forever trapped in his memory. He returned the hug, and couldn't believe he was holding Kyle again.

"Thanks for meeting me," Kyle murmured.

"No problem," Eric said. Kyle's curls brushed against his cheek. "It's great to see you."

A beat passed. Anxiety clutched at Eric's heart, worried he had said the wrong thing.

"You too," Kyle whispered, before pulling away.

They met each other's eyes, both their faces had pinked.

"Should we go?" Kyle asked, gesturing to the sliding doors.

Eric turned his head to look at them, before returning to Kyle and nodding.

"Sure…"

They smiled tightly at each other as they left the supermarket. Walking to the car Eric asked;

"Where are we going, anyway?"

"Oh, um, there's this coffee shop on the Main Street I thought we could go," Kyle replied. " _Tweak's_?"

Eric furrowed his eyebrows and turned to Kyle, they both chuckled.

"I've never heard of it," Eric shook his head.

"I'll show you where it is."

Their conversation halted when they got in the car, but as always Kyle resumed it when they pulled out of the parking lot.

"So how have things been up there?" He asked.

Eric glanced at Kyle and nodded.

"Fine..."

"You've been keeping yourself busy?"

Eric fidgeted, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Yeah, I guess…" he replied, hoping it would be enough to drop the subject. He wasn't ready to admit how he coped (or rather, how he _hadn't_ coped) in Kyle's absence.

Kyle didn't say anymore, although Eric was waiting for a response, another question. He glanced at Kyle and noticed he was clean-shaven.

"You shaved?"

"Huh?" Kyle said, before smiling and stroking his jaw. "Oh, yeah, I did… do you like it?"

Eric blinked, wondering why his opinion mattered.

"Uh… actually I preferred it when you had some stubble," he admitted sheepishly.

"Really?"

Eric remembered how rugged Kyle looked with his beard, its handsome copper colour, and how Kyle's bristly jaw felt against his neck, his chest, his thighs… and nodded, a half-smirk on his face.

"Hmm…" Kyle pursed his lips, then smiled and said, "Noted…"

* * *

Eric's shoulders had been raised and his head bowed warily when he had entered the coffee shop with Kyle. This was an unfamiliar setting, a part of town he had never been before and he had feared all curious gazes would be drawn to his hulking form, cramped in the quaint little coffee shop.

But Kyle had softened any piercing, intent stare, just by being beside him. With Kyle, Eric felt there was a space in this world he could slot himself into, he felt like he belonged. The steady, sure thump of his heart elicited just from knowing Kyle was close again drowned out his discomfort, any hostility that could be read on the patrons' faces. He had ordered his coffee without mumbling or avoiding eye contact, and sitting at a small table by the window with Kyle it made him fantasise of a life where this was a little ritual of theirs; away from the cabin, away from necessity.

But reality was just as scalding as the coffee on the tip of his tongue, reminding him that this was all too good to be true. Perhaps things really were too awkward, uncomfortable, and difficult? Maybe this was just Kyle being civil and Eric was still too socially inept to realise it? Maybe Kyle hadn't forgiven Eric at all and was just sitting here drinking coffee with him out of politeness? The questions weighed down on him, crushing any possibility of Eric initiating conversation himself.

"Are you enjoying your coffee?" Kyle asked.

Eric blinked, swallowing a mouthful of coffee and nodding quickly, as if he had a limited amount of time to answer Kyle's question.

"Yeah, it's great…" he replied. "Are you enjoying yours?"

Kyle nodded, before taking a sip.

"Can you believe only a month has gone by since we've seen each other?" He asked. A disbelieving smile made its way quietly across his face. "It seems longer…"

"It seems forever ago," Eric agreed, he thought their time spent apart would never end.

Kyle sighed, fingers wrapped loosely around his cooling drink.

"When I saw you yesterday I realised how much I needed to talk to you, that I was ready to have a calmer discussion about what happened between us," he admitted. "I think before we were so passionate and upset and too close to the situation to really make sense of it all. Do you think so?"

Eric's eyebrows lifted, a justification for both of their behaviour had seemed so out of reach when the consequences had been so disastrous.

"I… I guess-"

"Eric, I don't want vague, short answers from you, okay?" Kyle cut in. There was a hint of imploration in his voice. "I want you to be honest."

"Alright," Eric nodded, realising that perhaps what Kyle hadn't really needed was distance or separation but just the truth. That's all he had been waiting for.

He took a deep breath and tried to gather all the things he had wanted to say to Kyle over that lonely Christmas in the cabin, if he were ever given the chance.

"I still love you, Kyle," he confessed. "I'll always love you. I know what I did was wrong, I've never regretted anything more. But at the time I was so afraid of losing you and a part of me is terrified that I already have, that I've ruined this. I just hope that if you don't feel the same way about me, if you don't love me like you used to, then you have at least forgiven me and want me in your life. And I don't care if that means I can only be your friend, because… I thought I had mastered being lonely and independent, I thought I didn't need anyone. But that's only because I had never met you. Nobody had ever loved me the way you did. I've missed you so much and now I can't imagine my life without you."

Eric had struggled to meet Kyle's eyes as he spoke, and Kyle had been so silent Eric could have kidded himself that it was New Year's Eve again and he was half-asleep on the couch, or that this had been another exhausted day where the line between sleep and waking was muddled. But when he finally looked at Kyle his eyes were gleaming, his lips were parted but no sound. Then, a shaky exhale and a flush crawled up Kyle's throat. Eric wanted to reach out and touch him, his fingertips smoothing his rough, emotional words so Kyle would find them easier to process.

"I've missed you too," Kyle whispered. He shook his head but his smile was trembling with recollection. "I've missed your laugh, your smile, the way you look at me. I miss sleeping under your pelt, the strawberry jam you make, lying on your couch and talking to you for hours… I miss goofing around in the snow with you, the way you hold me, the sex…" A small smirk crept on Kyle's face and he dodged Eric's eyes that had flashed with surprise at that admission. It felt strange to be so coy. "Mostly I miss you seeing you every day. And I know I'm the one who suggested we keep our distance, and I genuinely believe it did us good. It may have been painful but it gave us time to think and appreciate all the good we had. Because we did, Eric, there was so much that was great about us, and after the weeks I spent being angry at you for what you did, and after all my rationalising I realised that I still love you so much and I want this to work. I want to give us another chance, to learn from our mistakes and make this better."

If Eric wanted to touch Kyle before then he wanted to leap across the table and scoop Kyle up in his arms now. He would thank him and decorate his face with kisses and promise that he would do anything to be with Kyle, that he would be a better, kinder, more fearless man because of him. But he refrained from doing that, it seemed now there were plenty of time for such promises… in quiet, private, earnest moments.

"Really?" he whispered, though he felt the space in his throat shrinking.

"Yes," Kyle grinned. "Do you?"

There was only the smallest hint of doubt, a tiny scar that would never completely go away. But it would fade, the more they proved themselves.

"Of course," he beamed in return.

Kyle's smile creased under the weight of his gratitude, and his fingers left his cup and reached out for Eric's own. They were warm, but Eric's hand was cool.

"Good," Kyle said softly, his thumb stroking the top of Eric's hand. "We have all the time in the world, Eric, we don't need to rush. There are obviously some issues with trust that we have to work on-"

"I'm so sorry for what I did, Kyle."

"I know," Kyle cut him off, squeezing Eric's hand gently, making it clear he was done with apologies. "I know you are. But everything was so isolated up there and it moved so fast between us that I think we both got carried away. At least now that I'm back in my apartment and you're in the cabin we can have our own separate lives, do our own thing and still be together. It's the best of both worlds."

It was a notion Eric had never considered; that he could have both, that he _wanted_ both. His life had been about extremes, never a balance. But when you're alone, you never have to compromise. And that had been fine before, but Kyle had made him greedy, opened him up to a world that he had blind to. His stubborn eyes were finally prised open to a world he had never seen before and it was beautiful.

"I like the sound of that," Eric smiled.

"I'm glad."

"You know, I never wanted to live in this town… or any town. After all that had happened with my dad I never wanted people to get too close, because I could never trust them and all they would do is leave me one day. I thought the world had wronged me somehow and I only wanted the smallest possible part in it. But you're different, Kyle, in the best way anybody can be different and loving you and trusting you just came so easily that I know now that any world that has you in it must be a great one. And I want to be a part of it."

"I want you to be a part of it too," Kyle replied, shining brighter than ever in Eric's eyes. "We'll do whatever it takes to make this work, okay?"

"Okay," Eric whispered, his voice was raspy and his eyes were stinging. "I don't want to lose you ever again."

Eric felt the anxiety constrict is heart, but Kyle's reassuring squeeze of his hand let him know that he wasn't going anywhere.

"So…" Kyle's voice trailed off shyly, and it made Eric chuckle. "You're not busy tomorrow are you?"

Eric shook his head with a puzzled snicker. "No, why?"

Kyle had been looking at their hands before he slowly lifted his gaze to Eric, reminding him just how irresistible Kyle was.

"I was wondering if you wanted to stay at my place tonight?"

Eric's eyes widened at such a tempting invitation, he nodded swiftly and didn't even care how eager he must have looked.

"I'd love to," he replied, savouring the glimmer in Kyle's eyes.

It would be his first night away from the cabin in twelve years. Only a few months ago he would have been terrified by the prospect, admittedly a part of him was still reluctant to be away from his home even for a night. But Kyle's company, his heart had become a home to Eric too, and he was finally going back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so now that we're actually at the end I just want to say thank you to everybody who has read, subscribed, bookmarked, left kudos and commented on this story! It's an idea I've wanted to do for a while so I'm glad that you guys got on board with the concept of loner, mountain man Eric and made writing and completing this story possible! I would never have done it without you. So again, thank you so much!
> 
> As for other fics, this will be my last multi-chapter fic for a while. I'm graduating university this year so all that work will keep me pretty busy until the summer. However, I have a ton of oneshot ideas that I'm dying to write, so expect to see those soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? There'll be a few more chapters to this and they'll be a bit longer than this installment. I'm trying to keep first chapters a little shorter than the rest because they seem more appealing to read. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!


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